


autumn comes when you're not yet done with the summer passing by

by arashiyama (harukatenoh)



Category: World Trigger
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Happy Ending, M/M, Non-Chronological, Post-Break Up, Reconciliation, Starting Over, not as sad as it sounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-17 06:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14827008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harukatenoh/pseuds/arashiyama
Summary: Time has never been an effective balm for Jin Yuuichi. That is probably because the 'time heals all' philosophy only works for people who are emotionally well-adjusted and in touch, and that has never been his area of expertise. When Arashiyama Jun walks back into his life after three years, it unearths a lot of wounds that Yuuichi would've rather left covered. But, Yuuichi has always tried to keep positive about the future, and maybe this time he'll find a different way of healing his hurt.





	autumn comes when you're not yet done with the summer passing by

**Author's Note:**

> happy fucking pride month 
> 
> work title from francis forever by mitski. this is unbeta'd bc i could never ask anybody to beta 21k worth of bs for me

Yuuichi gets the text on a Thursday night, as he’s walking back from work.

 **[19:28] don’t reply** **  
**code red  
arashiyama’s back in town

It’s interesting. He doesn’t feel what he had expected he would feel—he’s not sure _what_ he’s feeling, actually, as he stares down at the bright screen of his phone and the stark, black of the text.

He’s not sure if he’s feeling anything at all, and he thinks that might be the most concerning out of all possible responses.

Dutifully, he types back a reply.

 **[19:30] me** **  
**aw tachikawa **  
** as diligent as ever ~ ❤

 **[19:32] don’t reply** **  
**(눈_눈)  
im being SERIOUS

The typing symbol pops up, then disappears again, then pops up once more. Yuuichi can easily imagine the frown of concentration on Tachikawa’s face as he navigates what they both know as the rocky terrain of dealing with emotions.

 **[19:33] don’t reply** **  
**just  
be careful

Yuuichi smiles down at his phone. He’ll never admit it, not on pain of death, but Tachikawa is a better friend than he deserves, sometimes. The serious tone of his words is as uncharacteristic as the care that they exude isn’t.

 **[19:33] me** **  
**yeah  
i will

Yuuichi has always been a careful person; it’s etched into his bones. Careful with the people around him, careful with fragile futures and hesitant possibilities.

He’s just not very good at being careful with himself.

⇐⇐⇐

Three short, sharp knocks on the door in front of him, and there’s a responding shuffle from inside the apartment.

“ _It’s eleven at night_ ,” is hissed, and he feels a little bad but not that much, because he never really feels bad about bothering Tachikawa. It’s an unspoken agreement they have. Both of them have so little time to feel bad about things.

The door is pulled open angrily, the venomous expression on Tachikawa’s face briefly halted as he takes in who is standing on his doorstep.

“Jin,” Tachikawa says, voice so devoid of emotion that it expresses an emotion in itself.

There are footsteps, a lilting “Who is it?”, and then Kako comes into view behind Tachikawa. “Oh,” she says, and the way her mouth turns up into a smirk is almost as bad as Tachikawa’s flat greeting, “hello Jin. How nice of you to drop by at this very appropriate time of day,”

Yuuichi offers her a smile and a wave. He considers how he’s going to do this; navigates possible openings like he’s traversing a cliff face. In the dramas he’s seen, there had always been tears and gasping and despair involved, but he isn’t much of a fan of any of those things.

In the end, it’s pretty obvious what he ends up saying. How he ends up delivering it. Don’t fix it if it’s not broken, he believes.

In a bright tone of voice, he claps his hands together and says “Guess who’s a single man now,”

Kako and Tachikawa are so _expressive_. Neither of them is one for hiding their true intentions. They would probably suck at poker, but it makes for an entertaining sight as Yuuichi watches the emotions flicker across their face. It’s so obvious, the way they both cycle through confusion, surprise, then landing on a quiet horror.

Tachikawa steps out of the doorway. It’s an invitation to come inside, unvoiced, and it’s honestly a little funny to see how poorly bewilderment sits on Tachikawa’s features as he struggles to find something to say.

It helps Yuuichi smile and nod, giving a soft _pardon the intrusion_ as he steps over the threshold. Kako, ever the more capable person in the apartment, elbows Tachikawa in the side and tells him to go make tea. It helps, having a wrapping of purpose to cover up his surprise in, and Tachikawa hurries off to the kitchen while Kako stares at Yuuichi.

It’s unnerving, but Yuuichi pretends that it’s nothing well enough. He’s pretty good at that. Kako probably sees through it; she’s one of _those_ people, with eyes too keen and a tongue too sharp, but she must see something in Yuuichi’s expression that communicates how much he _doesn’t want to talk about it_ because all she does is click her tongue and gesture towards the couch.

“Ice skating is on tonight,” she says as she picks up the remote at tosses it at him. He catches it easily, walking over to the couch and sinking into it. “Tachikawa and I were going to watch together, we can accommodate for an add-on.”

She doesn’t mention how Yuuichi had once almost lived in this apartment before he had found a new place to spend all his time. It’s strange, to be called an _add-on_ , though he knows that the words only run surface deep.

Tachikawa, from inside the kitchen, calls “Are we having mochi? Wait, of course we are,”

And it makes Yuuichi forget the strangeness of being the guest in this apartment when Kako replies with “Why did you bother asking?” at the same time that he says “Don’t ask questions you’re going to answer yourself,”

Kako snickers. Yuuichi can feel the smirk on his face in full force. Tachikawa pokes his head out of the kitchen, salutes at the both of them, and says “I heard no arguments! Mochi it is!”

Kako meets Yuuichi’s eyes, rolls her own dramatically, and then stalks into the kitchen to make sure Tachikawa actually takes out some other snacks as well. Yuuichi, keeping himself busy while he waits, turns on the TV.

The channel broadcasting the ice skating is already selected when the TV flickers to life, meaning Yuuichi has to expend no more effort outside of listening to the commentators discuss the favourites for gold for this season. He pushes himself further back into the couch and tries to tune in, attempting to drown out the path that his thoughts are taking him in.

It works briefly, then the commentator begins to discuss how the skater was born in Arashiyama, Kyoto, and Yuuichi is swamped. Suffocated by an influx of feelings; all too much and too heavy, as the echoes of arguments and discussions that had never been quite enough flood his ears until they reach a breaking point, a jar of slowly filling emotions teetering over onto the edge and then spilling, beautifully, tragically, onto the ground in front of him.

Yuuichi can’t breathe. He can’t think. He doesn’t know anything except for the overwhelming wave of regret swallowing him up; Yuuichi had always been so good at regretting things. Yuuichi never hesitates when making his choices and picking his futures, but the downside to this is that he _regrets_ so fully, so intensely, never quite stumbling but mourning every misstep anyway.

“—Jin, hey, _Jin!_ ”

Kako’s voice cuts through his thoughts.

Lost in his thoughts and not noticing how hard he had been gripping the television remote, Yuuichi has accidentally switched the channel, turned up the volume and opened the menu.

The matching concern on Kako and Tachikawa’s faces is too much. Yuuichi surrenders the remote to the coffee table in front of him and shakes his head desperately. He doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t think he ever will.

They both cave to his silent plea eventually. Tachikawa does so by rolling his eyes and settling in next to Yuuichi on the couch, closer than they normally sit. It’s a nice gesture. Yuuichi allows himself to lean into Tachikawa’s side a little—Tachikawa has always been good for that. Leaning on, depending on, even if he doesn’t seem it.

Kako makes more protest, meeting Yuuichi’s eyes in a harsh staring competition before she backs down with a shrug and a shake of her head. She sits on the couch next to Tachikawa, but even the shield of a 180 centimetre, well-toned and obnoxious man between them doesn’t stop her from sending Yuuichi _looks_ every now and then.

The channel is back on ice skating. It’s mesmerising. Kako and Tachikawa are both loudly opinionated, comments playing off of each other as they snipe back and forth about quads and lutz jumps and other technical terms that mostly go over Yuuichi's head. Figure skating is apparently quite the interest for both of them; Yuuichi is content to sit and listen and watch. It's a comfortable atmosphere, gentle enough not to overwhelm and substantial enough to keep Yuuichi occupied.

Of course, there’s something missing.

The comfort is good, it’s _wonderful_ , but it is also achingly familiar in the way old injuries resurfacing are, a pain that you never quite figure out how to let go of.

Yuuichi considers himself quite the talented elite, but he doesn’t need to be a genius to figure out what is out of place. It’s as simple as this: comfort is what had characterized his and Arashiyama’s relationship. Above all, in every unspoken moment and underlying feeling, there had been _comfort,_ a safety that came with being around somebody you could trust, could understand, could be vulnerable around. Arashiyama had possessed the amazing ability to make Yuuichi feel at home anywhere.

Without him, Yuuichi doesn’t know if he can ever settle again.

The medalists are announced. The skater from Arashiyama wins gold, to the pleasure of both Tachikawa and Kako, and Yuuichi ponders why stormy mountains seem to be so auspicious. Whether as a name or as a hometown, the promise of thunder comes hand in hand with the promise of greatness.

He exhales slowly as the television is switched off. The murmur of conversation fades into the background as Yuuichi sinks further into Tachikawa’s shoulder, chasing the ghost of comfort that the familiar setting provides. He feels—he feels vulnerable like he hasn’t in a long, long time, stripped of the courage that having a hand at his back once afforded him, and he’s hit with the overwhelming realization he might cry.

He _hates_ crying. It speaks of years of restraint and unbendable willpower that he doesn’t in that moment, surrounded by a warmth that he can no longer feel and a familiarity he can no longer place, all because one person is missing from his life.

Then again, Arashiyama Jun has never been just one person. Arashiyama Jun is a storm, a mountain, a star, as incalculable as he is unshakeable. Without his pull to carry Yuuichi along, Yuuichi isn’t quite sure where he’s supposed to place his feet. People have always told Yuuichi he carries a certain assurance—a particular foresight, it could be, because of how he blazes his way into the future with conviction. It seems that he has to keep going, _always has to keep going_ , but here is the truth:

The truth is that Yuuichi looks behind himself, glances over his shoulder and falters in his breath, entirely too much, and he can only ever keep going when he sees Arashiyama following behind.

⇒⇒⇒

It’s a cold and lonely morning in Mikado city, in the way only mornings can be, when Yuuichi enters the coffee shop. It’s a small one, one that he has to go out of his way to find, but Yuuichi has never minded the extra walk because the coffee is excellent and the baristas are kind and the wait is never long. When he enters he slips into place easily, barely looking up from his texts as he stands in line because Yuuichi is a creature of habits like this; familiar footsteps in a tiny café and good morning texts to everybody he talks with. Even to Tachikawa, who has remained as **don’t reply** in his phone for a solid five years, now. Another small habit to add to the list—Yuuichi always replies.

He’s still entertaining Kyousuke about something-or-other over LINE when the barista calls out an order; one that is so familiar that Yuuichi almost drops his phone.

He could never forget it. It’s Arashiyama’s coffee order. He almost rolls his eyes.

Of course, it’s a coincidence. It’s the universe’s way of reminding Yuuichi of his past, despite how hard he tries to only look forward. It’s a bad joke at the wrong time, but Yuuichi still huffs a laugh and obligingly begins to type out the story to Kyousuke because ridiculous coincidences like this are meant to be treasured; a _haha, would you look at that_ to smooth over the years-old hurt.

Then, another too-familiar element cuts through his thoughts.

“That’s mine, thank you,” a voice rings out, and Yuuichi suddenly wishes his habits had found a home in a more populated café, so that those words would’ve been drowned out instead of crystal clear in his ears. So he could realize that this joke his life is playing on him is much crueller than he had thought.

Yuuichi looks up just as Arashiyama turns away from the counter, coffee in hand.

And, against not-quite-all odds, but still fairly formidable ones, they make eye contact. That’s them. Never impossible, but unlikely enough that they count what they can as a victory.

Yuuichi’s only reprieve is that Arashiyama looks as woefully unprepared as he feels. It’s a kind of beautiful coincidence, and if it had been anybody else at any other time Yuuichi would’ve thoroughly appreciated how the domino fell, one after the other, _click click click_.

But it isn’t anybody else. It is just him, and it is just Arashiyama—as always, both content to _just be_ —and he thinks that the universe should take a lesson on being kind.

Arashiyama still has the same coffee order. If Yuuichi is a creature of habits then Arashiyama is a creature of small surprises; when they had been younger, he would order something different every time they went out. Yuuichi would find what he loved and stick to it. Arashiyama would change it up when he felt like it.

The only reason Yuuichi can recognize this certain order is because he had spent an extended amount of time with Arashiyama, enough to identify which ones had popped up more often than others; a belying fondness that Arashiyama never spoke aloud. He knows Arashiyama so well, so closely, but it still feels like he’s seeing a stranger when their eyes meet in that store.

Then, because it’s Arashiyama Jun, he gives Yuuichi a smile that reaches his eyes and maybe reaches the stars as well. He walks forward and Yuuichi forgets that he’s in line for coffee, instead steps out to meet him in the middle.

“Yuuichi,” Arashiyama says, brushing aside every wall that Yuuichi has built up in the years they’ve been apart, “it’s good to see you.”

He sounds genuine. He sounds like somebody who is seeing an estranged ex on comfortable terms after several years, which he probably is. It’s a shame that Yuuichi is nowhere near that.

Yuuichi feels—

He simply _feels_. He can’t quite distinguish one emotion from the other at the moment because they’re all suddenly piling up, and it takes everything he has to stop them from pouring out and leaving him a drowning, sinking mess in the middle of his favourite coffee shop.

“Arashiyama,” Yuuichi says. The name on his tongue tastes like water after days in a desert. Like a gasping breath after minutes of holding it.

Arashiyama Jun, coffee in one hand and phone in the other, melts into a smile. A special smile, that had been reserved for Yuuichi for most of their lives. The noise inside Yuuichi quiets down and, despite everything, his mind slips into a deafening sort of peace.

Even after all this time, Yuuichi feels most at comfort around Arashiyama.

He remembers how his face works, and how his mouth works, and then Yuuichi is giving his trademark smile, crossing his arms and quipping “Come here often?”

It’s so easy to fall into the rapport they have instead of actually confronting the elephant in the room. Maybe that’s what Yuuichi always does best, sidestepping all the bad options until he finds one he likes and settling on it. If he’s not locking them away, he’s dodging, and overall it paints a picture of somebody with fairly unhealthy coping habits.

But it doesn’t matter right now, because right now he is with Arashiyama, and he feels the most empty and at peace that he has in years.

Arashiyama huffs at that and says “Not for a while, no,”

There’s a pause. Yuuichi is smiling and Arashiyama is smiling, but they’re both skating around the edges because this is only the tip of the iceberg and the cold inside of Yuuichi runs far, far, far down.

He is frozen beneath the surface but it is fine because he is here with Arashiyama and if there’s one thing they both excel at, it’s grinning and bearing it.

“Were you getting coffee?” Arashiyama asks, eyeing the line that Yuuichi had just left. The smile is still on his face but it’s absent now, distant in a way Yuuichi only picks up on from years of knowing Arashiyama. He finds he can still read every subtle emotion on Arashiyama’s face; the difference is that now, he doesn’t know why they’re there.

Yuuichi nods. Arashiyama’s smile returns in full force, a little faker, a little brighter.

“Let me buy you one!” He says, stepping towards Yuuichi. It’s briefly terrifying, the sudden proximity, and it takes every single fibre of Yuuichi to stop from flinching.

He stays still. Arashiyama steps into the end of the line. He breathes in.

Yuuichi joins Arashiyama in the line, overly conscious of the distance he puts between them like he’s never been before. They meet gazes as he’s measuring footsteps and this time it’s Arashiyama who looks away, a jerky head movement that could have only been born out of instinct.

It’s the first real sign that he’s anywhere near as off-hinge as Yuuichi is. It’s somewhat comforting.

The line moves quickly and soon enough they’re at the counter, even if the time had been plenty enough that Yuuichi had gone through and then discarded several conversation topics. They had been silent the entire time, which has never been uncommon between the two: just never so uncertain.

The server looks up at Arashiyama and double-takes as Arashiyama smiles sheepishly at her, giving a small wave.

“Back again so soon, sir?” She asks, clearly dazzled by the reappearance. Yuuichi can’t help but snicker at the sight; it’s been so long, yet Arashiyama still leaves most of the people he meets starstruck. It’s a nice, familiar rhythm as the server blushes and Yuuichi laughs and Arashiyama devoutly ignores both the server’s blushing and Yuuichi’s laughing.

With years of practice behind him, Arashiyama recites Yuuichi’s coffee order perfectly. They step out of line and fall into unfamiliar waters again and Yuuichi doesn’t know if he’s tired of the constant treading water or if the adrenaline is finally waking him up from a years-long trance.

They meet eyes, once, twice, a third time. It’s the third that is the breaking point for them both. Yuuichi starts smiling. Arashiyama does as well. The absurdity of the situation is far easier to concentrate on than anything else. Yuuichi can’t stop smiling and he can no longer tell whether it is genuine or fake, just that it is there, and that Arashiyama is mirroring his expression.

“Do you have to go to work after this?” Arashiyama asks, the words reminiscent of hopeful.

Yuuichi does, but he’s surprised by how much he wants to say no. His heart can’t decide whether he wants to stay in this moment forever or if he wants to leave as soon as possible, and it’s ridiculous, because Arashiyama has never been the source of this much conflict for Yuuichi before. It’s new, and uncertain, and a little thrilling.

He says “Yeah, I do,” and keeps the disappointment out of his tone. Arashiyama nods, eyes turning away and Yuuichi forces himself to acknowledge that that doesn’t mean anything. Yuuichi goes to say something more, but Arashiyama is distracted by Yuuichi’s order being called. As he takes Yuuichi’s coffee from the server, he says something to her that Yuuichi doesn’t catch, but she’s offering him a pen and then he’s scribbling on Yuuichi’s cup.

“Here,” he says, offering it up. “I got a new phone number.” Yuuichi takes the cup and turns it, and underneath his name lies the numbers, written neatly as ever. Yuuichi smiles.

“Let’s—” and Arashiyama hesitates, his eyes meeting Yuuichi’s. “Let’s catch up.”

Yuuichi sucks in a breath, and nods.

＝＝＝

Work is quiet. A mercy, maybe, but it leaves Yuuichi alone in his head. It’s never been a pleasant place to be and he’s worked so hard to remedy that, but like always, Arashiyama can show up and it’s like time has been rewinded. Like nothing has changed at all. Except—it has, and this change drags at Yuuichi’s heels and slows his thoughts, languid and weary. He dips in and out of memory all day, the call of working barely pulling him out of his mind.

Arashiyama, he realizes, looks different. To be expected, of course, but there’s always something unsettling about seeing a change in something once so familiar. He finds himself toying with the urge, the idea, of reacquainting himself with this new and different Arashiyama. He’s not sure if it’s out of genuine curiosity or some masochistic streak driving him back, pulling him closer, but his normal state of being for several years had been _knowing_ Arashiyama, and he thinks he wants to return to that.

Three years of silence isn’t easy to stomach, after all.

He’s about to get lost again, in the terrible way that he always does when the past comes up because he’s good with foresight but terrible with hindsight, when something slams down on his desk.

It’s a cup of green tea. It’s attached to the hand of a Tachikawa Kei. Yuuichi will never pin whether it’s a blessing or a curse that he ended up working in the same place as Tachikawa.

“You’re moping,” Tachikawa says bluntly, humorously. Of course Yuuichi’s pain is funny to this bastard.

He makes a face at Tachikawa, then says with more ease than he has: “I ran into Arashiyama this morning.”

Tachikawa winces. “How did that go?”

Yuuichi isn’t lying when he replies “Fairly well, actually,” but by the rise in Tachikawa’s eyebrows, something else shows in his expression. Yuuichi lets Tachikawa attempt to psychoanalyze him and grabs his green tea in the meantime, sipping at it as Tachikawa mulls over an answer.

Then, Tachikawa sighs and pulls a chair from somewhere, slumping down on it backwards. He makes eye contact with Yuuichi, then grins.

Yuuichi grins back. He reflects, somewhere in the place in his head labelled _things I’ll never acknowledge out loud_ , that he really owes so much to Tachikawa.

“Life’s a bitch, huh?” Tachikawa says.

A laugh bubbles up in Yuuichi. “No shit,”

They sit in silence for a while; Tachikawa plays with a pen lying on Yuuichi’s desk and Yuuichi sips his tea as the clock ticks on.

Then: “You want to talk about it? Or about… anything?” Tachikawa says, in the most awkward attempt at dealing with emotions that he’s made yet. Yuuichi scoffs.

“I’d really rather not,” he responds dryly, then adds “and especially not with you.”

Tachikawa grins something sharp and flicks the pen at Yuuichi. “I didn’t want to talk with you either,” he snaps back, and then they’re both smiling.

Yuuichi is fine. He thinks he’s fine. He’s going to drink his green tea and keep smiling and not talk about it and it’ll be fine. He will be fine. Nevermind that not talking about it has historically proven to be a terrible, terrible idea.

⇐⇐⇐

The door shuts, ever gentle, but it’s enough to rouse Yuuichi from where he had been drifting off on the couch. Arashiyama flicks the light on and Yuuichi has the pleasure of watching the light come alive on his face, illuminating a fond, concerned expression as he spots Yuuichi.

“You’re awake,” Arashiyama murmurs, shrugging off his jacket.

Yuuichi, still a little slow from sleep, nods and yawns. “I wanted to see you,” he says with a smile. Arashiyama smiles back and walks over to the couch, sitting down beside Yuuichi and wrapping his arms around him.

His face is pressed into Yuuichi’s chest, and Yuuichi has to look down to discern his expression, but he seems weary. Like he usually isn’t.

He’s about to comment when Arashiyama mumbles “You left early this morning.” into his shirt. Yuuichi hopes Arashiyama can’t feel how his heart constricts at the words.

Well acquainted with Yuuichi’s schedule, Arashiyama usually makes breakfast for him before his shift on Thursday. He had felt bad leaving early this morning, and he feels even worse now. It would be so easy to just say it, to come out with it and Yuuichi isn’t sure why he’s holding back and then—Arashiyama’s phone rings.

Yuuichi can feel how Arashiyama slumps at the sound. He pulls away and his expression is neutral but Yuuichi thinks he can see something underneath it, he just can’t pin _what_.

“Sorry,” Arashiyama says with an apologetic smile, “it’s my manager. I have to take this.”

Yuuichi nods. It’s not the first time that Arashiyama’s been contacted by work while they’ve been at home, and it’s not going to be the last, and it’s ceased to bother Yuuichi. Knowing this, Yuuichi has to make note of how Arashiyama looks at his phone, and then back at Yuuichi, hesitating before answering.

Still, he answers regardless, even if his demeanour is just shy of reluctant.

“Hello, Fukui-san,” he murmurs into the phone. Yuuichi can’t quite catch the other side of the conversation, it just seems like white noise to him, but he’s happy enough to settle in and listen to Arashiyama talk.

“Yes, Fukui-san, I’m certain. I know it’s not ideal, but this is what I want. I’m sorry,” Arashiyama responds to an unheard question, and Yuuichi has to wonder what he’s discussing. His voice is insistent and firm, but also… almost pained, and it’s not a sound Yuuichi likes.

“I’m sorry I—” and Arashiyama casts a sidelong glance at Yuuichi, “I really can’t talk right now. Please, we can discuss this tomorrow if you want. But I’m not changing my stance.”

Ever polite, but it’s easy to tell how tense Arashiyama is as he speaks. Yuuichi reaches over and takes his free hand, rubbing circles into it in an effort to calm him down. Arashiyama doesn’t acknowledge it outside of a soft smile on his face, but it’s all Yuuichi needs to see.

Finally, after listening intently to his manager say god-knows-what, Arashiyama hangs up and places his phone down with careful control.

He turns back to Yuuichi, squeezes his hand and leans back into him again.

“What was that about?” Yuuichi asks as he shifts to accommodate for Arashiyama better. Arashiyama huffs a bit, but when he looks up at Yuuichi he’s looking up with a smile—reassuring, bright, relaxing.

“Nothing important,” he says, “just usual work stuff, you know?”

And Yuuichi does know, because acting is a profession fraught with stress and problems that he and Arashiyama have learnt to take in stride. Every day there’s a new issue that comes up and then is dealt with, it’s a part of the rhythm of the job, and he’s come to expect this. Of course, that doesn’t mean he should be adding to that stress, because it _is_ a lot, which is why he’s so reluctant to tell Arashiyama about why he’s been leaving earlier lately.

Becoming a paramedic had been stressful enough for them both. He hadn’t missed the way Arashiyama’s expression tightened when Yuuichi had mentioned beginning to work night shifts, and then working alongside firefighters and police officers. He hates that expression. Arashiyama is so, so bright and it’s not right for him to ever sport that kind of worry.

Yuuichi sighs and nods, pressing a kiss to Arashiyama’s cheek.

“Shall this talented elite cheer you up?” He offers, grinning as he continues to pepper kisses along Arashiyama’s face, and then neck.

Arashiyama giggles, but he still scoffs and pushes Yuuichi away. Rolling his eyes, he says “Yuuichi, you’re dead tired. You were falling asleep on the couch five minutes ago. Let’s just go to bed,” Then, he leans closer and presses a deep kiss to Yuuichi’s lips, steady and warm like Arashiyama always is. When he pulls away, it’s with a coy smile and a “Besides, you’re already cheering me up.”

Yuuichi rolls his eyes at Arashiyama’s skill to be constantly sappy but he’s smiling, and he’s content, and it’s enough to push his fears away.

Together, they make their way through their nightly routine. Yuuichi watches in amusement, sitting on the closed toilet lid, as Arashiyama goes through his skincare routine for the night. Arashiyama’s spreading his foaming cleanser on his face when Yuuichi stands up and walks over, pressing a finger to Arashiyama’s cheek and drawing a heart in the foam.

Arashiyama smiles, batting Yuuichi’s hand away, but Yuuichi can see how his hands linger over it afterwards, hesitant to wipe it away. He rolls his eyes, because Arashiyama is always so sentimental over the smallest of things, and flicks some water at his boyfriend.

“Hurry up and rinse so I can kiss you,” Yuuichi demands, reaching over to turn on the tap. Arashiyama obliges, leaning down to splash water on his face and flick some at Yuuichi in revenge as well. They’re about five seconds away from devolving into a childish water fight when Arashiyama’s phone on the counter buzzes, once, twice, and then starts ringing. Arashiyama’s face darkens.

His movements stiff but trying not to be, he leans over. Yuuichi can easily read what he’s reading, the contact for his manager lit up on the phone screen.

Arashiyama closes his eyes. He breathes in. He takes a finger and deliberately swipes _reject_ , leaving the bathroom in silence.

He turns to Yuuichi and he’s smiling, but it’s tinged with fatigue. “Manager again,” he explains, pretending that Yuuichi hadn’t already seen the contact. “It seems that every major figure in my life has the tendency to not listen to me.” He adds that last past with a meaningful look and a smirk at Yuuichi.

Yuuichi’s still worried, because the darkness from earlier has seemed to set into Arashiyama’s face despite how hard he’s trying to stay bright, but he pokes out his tongue in response and says “I’m a little offended at being put on the same level as your manager,”

Arashiyama laughs. They settle into silence.

It gives Yuuichi time to study him: the harshness of his eyebags, the barely-there downturn in his expression, the low set of his shoulders. It’s obvious, to Yuuichi at least, that something is bothering him.

Yuuichi doesn’t need to add to that. Nevermind that he’s started training to become a rescue paramedic; a position that’s twice as risky as his current one, which is already fraught with danger. He’ll find a way to deal with the training, and the eventual job shift, if it’ll keep the weight off of Arashiyama’s shoulders. Anything, to keep the weight off of Arashiyama’s shoulders.

Arashiyama finishes his nightly routine, and they fall into bed together. They end up facing each other, tangled together underneath the sheets already and sleepiness nigh. Yuuichi watches the tension fade out of Arashiyama’s expression, the tension that had no place being there in the first place, and wonders if his expression is doing the same.

“Goodnight, Yuuichi,” Arashiyama mumbles.

“Goodnight, Jun.” Yuuichi breathes back.

⇒⇒⇒

It’s the third day of Yuuichi being frozen in time, stuck in Kako’s and Tachikawa’s apartment. It’s a miracle that they’ve let him stay this long. He knows he’s intruding, bothering, burdening, and he hates it. He so hates to be a burden but this time, just this one time, he can’t quite manage the weight on his own yet. He just needs to be around people, to not be left alone to be swallowed by all of the darkness in his thoughts and it’ll work out.

He goes over the list of things he needs to do in his head. He needs to clean Kako and Tachikawa’s apartment, as a thank you. He’s halfway through currently; since Tachikawa is still asleep and Kako is out of the house, he can work in peace. He needs to go get his stuff from his… his actual apartment, as much as it can be called that. He needs to figure out where he’s going to live now, how they’re going to split their belongings, how to most effectively detangle two lives that have been intertwining for years and years.

He needs to sort out the future. He can’t rest in the present until he does, and honestly, he doesn’t want to rest. The rhythm of constant movement, at least, keeps his blood rushing.

Then, halfway through mopping the kitchen, Yuuichi watches as Tachikawa stumbles in and brandishes his phone at him.

“You have a call,” Tachikawa mumbles, squinting at the clock as if he doesn’t believe that it’s almost two in the afternoon and is willing to fight over it. It makes Yuuichi smile at least, as he walks over and grabs the phone.

It’s still vibrating softly—it’s been on silent for the past three days—and the contact that shows is Arashiyama’s. His contact picture is one of the two of them, a couple of years back, on a trip to the beach. Yuuichi had loved the picture so much that he hasn’t changed it after all this time; there had been endless sunshine and endless sea and the thing that fascinated Yuuichi the most was still Arashiyama.

Looking at it now, he plasters a smile on his face. Tachikawa has left, so there’s nobody around to witness it and no true reason, but he puts one there anyway. It means _something_. A hollow show of acceptance.

He picks up.

The line is silent. He can only hear white noise and maybe if he tries really hard, the soft intake of breath.

Then, after an eternity, or maybe more, somebody speaks. It’s the both of them. They both start, at the same moment, in perfect time.

“Hey,” says Yuuichi as Arashiyama breathes “Yuuichi,”.

Then they both go silent again and Yuuichi attempts some feeble, cracked smile at their simple synchronicity. He still doesn’t know who he’s smiling for. He’s long ceased to convince himself with these smiles.

“Yuuichi,” Arashiyama breathes again, and Yuuichi is pretty sure he’s just saying it to hear it. That’s okay, or at least Yuuichi pretends it’s okay. Arashiyama has always made a habit out of making things sound beautiful. Their silence stretches out slow.

“You can have the apartment,” is what Arashiyama finally says. It’s the surest he’s sounded the entire conversation. It’s also not what Yuuichi had been expecting at all.

“And why is that?” he asks. He realizes right afterwards that he should’ve replied in some other manner instead of falling right back into comfort, into intimacy. He should attempt to put some distance between them at least, because even the separation of a phone call is too close for him and his fraught, fragile heart.

He can definitely hear Arashiyama’s heavy inhale this time, and it unnerves him to think that Arashiyama is not prepared for whatever he’s going to say next.

“I’m moving. I’m—I’m going to Australia, actually. My manager just told me about this big film opportunity and it’s being done in Sydney so I’m…”

Arashiyama stops. Yuuichi waits.

“You’re leaving.”

It takes Yuuichi a moment to realize that he had been the one to confirm it. Arashiyama exhales, maybe for the first time this entire phone conversation, as if he had been waiting for that confirmation as well.

“Yeah. It’s a good role. A really big chance for me,” Arashiyama sighs. Despite everything, Yuuichi still feels happiness bleed into his heart at the thought. This is Arashiyama’s dream, his _calling_. If only he wouldn’t sound so sad about it, and Yuuichi hates that it’s his fault the sadness is there.

“Look at you,” Yuuichi says, the cheer in his voice more genuine than it has been for the past three days, “on your way to becoming a big-time star,” His tone is painfully transparent; Arashiyama can surely hear the pride set in it. No matter how much it hurts, he cannot be anything but proud of this.

There’s a pause. Then, Arashiyama says “Yeah. It’s—I can’t really believe it.”

 _I can_ , Yuuichi doesn’t say. _I always believe, when it comes to you_. Arashiyama sounds happy and it is a raw and bittersweet happiness that makes Yuuichi feel a little breathless. The best things always came at the worst—or maybe best—times.

“I already packed my stuff,” Arashiyama continues. Yuuichi hangs onto his every word, standing in the kitchen clutching at his phone like a lifeline. “I… Yuuichi. Come home. I want—I need to see you.”

Yuuichi’s stomach is still twisted into knots, half running cold with despair and half running hot with elation. “Okay,” he replies, already fumbling in his steps to grab his keys, “yeah. See you soon.”

They both pause, hanging onto the quiet. They don’t have anything to say that shouldn’t be saved for when they meet face to face, but they hang on anyway.

When Arashiyama says, “Okay. Okay. See you,” his voice is a quiet, unruly thing. Yuuichi hears the call end and is met with true silence, and he kind of hates it. He kind of hates everything about this situation.

The drive home is quiet. So is Yuuichi’s heart. After all those days of non-stop activity, of non-stop _feeling_ , it is strange for him to feel so quiet. So tranquil. He is going to face Arashiyama, and the ghost of their relationship, and all he can sense is a pervading, overtaking calm. How typical.

His steps are heavy when he walks up to the apartment, and the door is already ajar and waiting. He feels like he should hesitate before going in but he doesn’t, just takes a breath and dives into the depths.

“I’m home,” he mumbles.

Arashiyama is sitting on the couch, hand curled around a cup of tea, when he says “Welcome home,”

Then they both sit and stew in the knowledge that that is probably the last time either of them will say that to each other. It is a crushing thought.

Yuuichi walks over and dutifully keeps his eyes on Arashiyama, both because he can’t really find the will to look away and because it saves him from having to look at the rest of the apartment, laid half-bare. There’s another cup on the coffee table.

He sits down on the couch. He places a careful amount of space between them, and they both look down at it before looking back at each other.

Arashiyama looks vaguely amused, but he makes no move to change the distance. It’s a little funny to Yuuichi too, in the way everything absurd tends to be.

Yuuichi takes his cup, relishing in the warmth. It’s fitting that this is happening in the middle of winter; it reminds him of the dramas Konami would binge, appropriately glum and melodramatic.

“You’re flying to Australia,” Yuuichi says. He’s smiling. He means it.

Arashiyama looks at him, bashful, like he still can’t believe it when it’s said out loud. “Yeah,” he replies, his expression a mix of pleased and wistful. “Leading role.”

“Naturally,” Yuuichi says back, and he can feel his heart start to beat again at the way Arashiyama brightens under the praise. In the end, _no matter what_ , he is still so fond. He can’t fathom a version of himself that isn’t.

“When do you fly?” He asks.

“A week from now,” Arashiyama replies. “I’m staying at the company dorms in the meantime.”

Yuuichi huffs. “That’s fast,” he says, hoping the hurt doesn’t show. Judging from Arashiyama’s expression, it does, but then again: when has he ever been able to fool Arashiyama?

Arashiyama looks down at his tea, voice sombre as he says “Yeah, I know. I guess I’m—and my manager—we’re eager.”

Eager to go. Eager to leave. It hurts, a forecasted sort of hurt that one must feel when they’re being faced by an unavoidable injury: a car hurtling towards them, a gunshot sounding, the ground rushing up. The hurt isn’t quite yet immediate, but Yuuichi can still feel it coming.

“I’m sorry,” Arashiyama says, sounding like he means it. Yuuichi shakes his head.

“Don’t be,” he brushes off with a smile. “Never be, Jun. You were always meant for great things.”

Arashiyama, with quiet fierceness, says “You were great.”

It strikes at Yuuichi hard enough that he feels winded. He feels winded and sore, and Arashiyama is staring at him with impossible, molten warmth and he _aches_ underneath the gaze. He aches and aches and he knows Arashiyama is as well, as they look at each other, breaths bated.

Yuuichi loves Arashiyama more than he can take. It might just kill him to watch him leave.

Arashiyama puts his cup down, and reaches out a hand. Gently, Yuuichi takes it. Even though it might be the last time they ever do, he holds his hand without desperation, without want. Yuuichi’s heart breaks against the rocks, again and again and again, and he wishes that he could stay in this moment. He wishes he could keep Arashiyama in this moment—hold him down and fix whatever they had broken along the way and make him stay.

Yuuichi does no such thing. He just holds Arashiyama’s hand; it is a steady and delicate grip, and that is all that it has ever been and ever needs to be.

“It was good, wasn’t it?” Arashiyama says softly. His eyes are wet. Yuuichi finds himself blinking back tears too.

“It was _great_ ,” he murmurs back, voice muted but more certain than anything. “We were great.”

They make eye contact.

 _I’ll miss you._ Yuuichi tells him, silent all the while. _I’ll miss you more than anything. I love you more than anything._

He can tell that Arashiyama is thinking the same thing. They both leave it unsaid, because sometimes it’s okay to just know. And Arashiyama and Yuuichi—they know each other so well.

That night, they go through every motion as they used to, painfully conscious that it will be their last. They sit in comfortable silence and finish their tea together, hands still intertwined. Arashiyama rinses the cups while Yuuichi brushes his teeth. Yuuichi sits on the toilet seat while Arashiyama goes through his nighttime routine. They talk all the while; not of the future, not of the present, but of the past.

Yuuichi brings up their first date. Arashiyama mentions their annual beach trips. Yuuichi talks about lantern festivals and Arashiyama recalls late-night ramen sessions. High school study sleepovers, their first day of university, receiving the key to their apartment together: a history of love is slowly, lovingly excavated and laid bare. Yuuichi feels tender all over in the worst of ways, like he’ll crumble if he’s nudged too hard. Arashiyama is continually distracted, fumbling his phone and missing steps in his skincare.

They try their best.

When they climb into bed together, neither of them are willing to close their eyes. It feels like it’s ending too soon, because this is their true ending—not the shouting and tears of before. This is their last hurrah, a slow burning down of the candle until there’s no wax left and they’re both left in darkness.

Neither is willing to say goodnight for the last time. Neither is willing to fall asleep beside each other for the last time. Yuuichi had never thought that they would have a last time for anything, and he’s so very woefully unprepared to handle it. He’s not ready for this dream to end.

When he speaks, his voice is hoarse and scared

“Goodnight, Jun,” Yuuichi whispers.

“Goodnight, Yuuichi,” Arashiyama breathes back.

⇒⇒⇒

Yuuichi lies in bed, staring up at his ceiling. He hasn’t changed out of his clothes yet, and he hasn’t bothered to get under the covers either. He feels like he’s waiting for something, always waiting and chasing, but he doesn’t know what. He thinks he has an idea, but it’s not a thought he wants to entertain.

His phone buzzes.

 **[21:26] kakizaki**  
hey. i heard you ran into arashiyama

 **[21:27] me**  
god forbid tachikawa ever keeps his mouth shut

 **[21:28] kakizaki** **  
**...i heard from arashiyama actually

Yuuichi snorts despite himself, mouth settling into his ever familiar smile.

 **[21:28] me**  
oops  
my bad

He had always known that Kakizaki and Arashiyama had kept in contact, but it’s still displacing to think about. After the breakup, the four of them had split so naturally into pairs; Arashiyama and Kakizaki, Jin and Ikoma. Tachikawa had once compared it to getting custody of children in a divorce, and well—Jin really doesn’t want to acknowledge how accurate that is.

 **[21:30] kakizaki** **  
** its fine. i know you never pass up a chance to insult tachikawa-san

 **[21:30] me** **  
** somebody has to do the hard job of keeping him humble

 **[21:31] kakizaki** **  
**don’t know if he’s the one who needs to be kept humble **  
** however, are you okay?

 **[21:31] me** **  
**ppl keep asking me that  
your concern is flattering, but you all know it’s been years, right?

The conversation is silent for a while, and Yuuichi can feel Kakizaki’s unique blend of silence and judgement easily even through text. Kakizaki has always been a peacemaker; it had probably killed him to watch two of his best friends fall apart like that. The fallout hadn’t been messy, but it had been encompassing, like everything about Arashiyama in Yuuichi’s life.

 **[21:33] kakizaki** **  
** i know it’s pointless, because you only ever talked to one person and he’s evidently out of the picture, but if you need somebody i’m here. you aren’t alone, jin.

Yuuichi reads the message once, then twice, and then again, before dropping his phone to his chest with a sigh. Kakizaki is always so sincere, so honest and Yuuichi wonders where that leaves him: among the four of them, he had been the only liar—the only deceiver. The only one with an emotional roadblock so wide that he has never been able to get past it, not long enough to change anything. He knows he isn’t alone, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling like it and in truth, he’s felt alone ever since Arashiyama had walked out of his life.

He’s scared to find out if he’s only ever going to stop feeling alone with Arashiyama around, because Arashiyama is not his to have anymore.

 **[21:35] me** **  
**such cutting words kakizaki  
but yeah. i know. thanks

The typing symbol pops up and keeps going, for a while.

 **[21:37] kakizaki**  
you’re welcome  
i just want you both to be happy… i know it seems like i picked a side, but i really do want the best for you both.  
im sorry for that, though

Yuuichi smiles wearily at his phone.

 **[21:38] me** **  
**you aren’t capable of purposefully hurting somebody  
it’s fine, really  
anyway, i had ikomacchi!

 **[21:38] kakizaki** **  
** lets not act like ikoma is any good for emotional consolation

Yuuichi isn’t above screenshotting the conversation and sending it to Ikoma. The ache in his chest pervades, but he smiles a little easier when Kakizaki texts him lecturing about betrayal, and they fall into simple conversation.

He’s okay. He’s fine. He looks at the newest number saved into his phone, neatly put under _Arashiyama Jun_ , and wonders. He spends some time with an empty text message open, waiting—waiting for what? He should’ve stopped waiting a long, long time ago.

He puts his phone away.

Sleep doesn’t come easily that night, but it rarely ever does.

⇐⇐⇐

Hiding it, like hiding anything from Arashiyama, isn’t very easy.

Yuuichi comes home exhausted from his days of rigorous training and prepping more often than not, and it has lead to several almost slip-ups. Days when he’d be a little too slow with the witty response, a little dazed when walking through the door, that send Arashiyama’s suspicions up.

Days like today, when Yuuichi can feel the weight of the day pulling him down as he opens the door. He can barely find the energy to hang his bag and jacket up on the rack, but he does with a bit-back sigh, limbs slow with weariness.

Arashiyama, from where he’s sitting on the couch, looks up. The concern is clear in his eyes, worry bled into his every motion, and Yuuichi hates the sight of little else more.

“Hey,” Arashiyama calls, standing up and opening his arms, “you don’t look too good,”

Yuuichi gratefully steps into his embrace, feeling the tension bleed out of him as he sinks into Arashiyama’s sturdy figure. Mumbling into the crook of Arashiyama’s neck, he says “Work was tiring,”

Arashiyama hums in sympathy, turning his head a little so that he can press a kiss to Yuuichi’s temple.

“Go sit down, Yuuichi. I’ll take care of dinner tonight,” he says gently, shuffling to maneuver Yuuichi towards the couch.

Yuuichi is aware enough to make a noise of protest, stepping away from Arashiyama to meet his eyes. “No, it’s my turn,” he says as he shakes his head, even though he feels vaguely like dropping to the floor and sleeping for an entire day.

Arashiyama scoffs, putting his hands on Yuuichi’s shoulders firmly and directing him to sit on the couch. “Leave it to me, you’re dead on your feet,” he says pointedly. Yuuichi, drained of the will to fight anymore, curls up on the couch and looks up at Arashiyama.

“Can I have a kiss?” He asks, smiling like he knows he won’t be denied. Arashiyama rolls his eyes but still leans in, pressing a soft kiss to Yuuichi’s mouth.

Yuuichi doesn’t want to let go, but Arashiyama is already pulling away and meeting his eyes, taking advantage of their proximity to ask “Is there anything going on at work? You’ve been more tired than usual lately,”

Yuuichi can’t escape the question, not with Arashiyama in his space like this, so he just shrugs and looks away. “No, there’s nothing,” he replies softly, pulling a little further into himself. “It’s just busy,”

It’s a dangerous situation. There’s a look in Arashiyama’s eyes that tells Yuuichi he might suspect something, and Yuuichi doesn’t think he’s in the state to be able to fend off Arashiyama’s undying, relentless concern. If it comes down to it, he might just end up telling Arashiyama, and then what?

How does he go on from there? It’s better this way, for them both.

Then, Arashiyama’s phone rings. It’s in the kitchen, and Arashiyama hesitates at Yuuichi’s side before departing. He gives Yuuichi one last, searching look as he does and it makes Yuuichi feel a little stripped to his core, but then Arashiyama is walking away before it can all unravel.

Yuuichi breathes out, maybe for the first time in the past ten minutes. He lets himself relax and listens to Arashiyama on the phone in the background.

Yuuichi’s thoughts are loud, as they always are, and they drown out Arashiyama’s voice until it’s nothing but a murmur. He thinks, and thinks, and thinks: of worry and pain in Arashiyama’s eyes, of trembling hands, of fearful words. He thinks of happiness, and the way it sits so beautifully on Arashiyama’s features, and he knows he would probably do anything to keep it there.

He doesn’t notice Arashiyama ending his phone call and barely registers him walking back to the couch, until he feels somebody settling in beside him. Arashiyama curls up as well, and Yuuichi is already shifting to accommodate him better. He lays his head on Yuuichi’s shoulder and sighs, then turning to bury his face in Yuuichi’s neck.

“Actually, do you want to order takeout?” Arashiyama asks. “I’m tired.” His breath tickles Yuuichi and he huffs a laugh, hand coming up to run through Arashiyama’s hair.

“Sure, sure. Pizza and a movie?”

Yuuichi can’t see him, but he can easily picture the way Arashiyama smiles as he nods into Yuuichi’s shoulder.

“I love you,” Arashiyama mumbles, abrupt. Yuuichi jolts a little; Arashiyama often drops confessions like these, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling a strange thrill every time, and he’s saved from replying when Arashiyama continues “I would do anything for you—for us, you know that, right?”

Trying to keep the stutter out of his breath, Yuuichi exhales slowly. Arashiyama’s voice is low, insistent and Yuuichi has no choice but to believe in him, believe in _them_.

“Yeah,” he responds, “I know. I love you too,”

Arashiyama melts a little more into Yuuichi’s side, like he’s letting go of a weight on his shoulders. It’s peculiar, but Yuuichi will always enjoy entertaining Arashiyama in his more clingy moments, so he doesn’t say anything.

He just allows Arashiyama to lean into his side, chasing his warmth, and listen to him breathe. Sitting there together, silent, Yuuichi lets himself have a rare moment of peace and comfort in his ever-busy existence, with the love of his life by his side.

⇒⇒⇒

Yuuichi is up early in the morning, navigating his kitchen as he makes himself breakfast. He has some playlist playing in the background as he cooks, bringing him a sense of peace but still fading well enough into the background.

It had always been Arashiyama who started the morning quietly, curtains pulled open and absent smile on his face. He hadn’t hesitated to join in with Yuuichi, humming and dancing along whenever they caught a morning together, but when he had been alone, he had been content with silence. It’s a skill that Yuuichi will probably never master.

The memory makes Yuuichi sigh, eyes closed and head tilted up towards the ceiling. He had been doing so well with burying all these memories of Arashiyama for the past three years, but now that he’s is back it seems Yuuichi’s mind has other ideas. The first few months had been hard: he had eventually moved out of their old apartment, too tired of seeing the flickers of a happier time everywhere he had looked.

Not that he hadn’t known this already, but Arashiyama proves to be near impossible to escape. It’s like Yuuichi now has to deal with two of him: the image of the older, changed Arashiyama from the café contrasted with the younger, achingly familiar Arashiyama from his past.

He groans, reaching for his phone and turning up his music a little louder. As he glances at his texts, he’s reminded of how Arashiyama would always text him a good morning or good night text if their schedules weren’t lining up that day, which then spirals into his brain reminding him that he hadn’t texted Arashiyama yet and that the ball is totally in his ballpark for that one. Arashiyama has no way of contacting him: it’s all up to Yuuichi.

Foregoing the minutes of staring at Arashiyama’s contact that Yuuichi is about to waste, he opens up his messages and tries to be proactive.

 **[07:28] me** **  
**tachikawa dearest  
would u like to join me for some ramen

 **[07:29] don’t reply** **  
**(－.－)...zzz  
ask me again in 6 hours

 **[07:29] me** **  
** but you’re clearly already up, hmm?

 **[07:30] don’t reply** **  
** gee, wonder whose fault that is

 **[07:31] me** **  
**surely you aren’t accusing me  
i’m just trying to make sure u have a healthy lifestyle

 **[07:31] don’t reply** **  
**uuuuuuuuuuugh  
fine  
but ur treating

 **[07:32] me** **  
** how cruel, i’m suffering right now you know?

 **[07:32] don’t reply** **  
**and im suffering 2 bc somebody decided 2 wake me up at ass am in the morning  
pay for ur mistakes.

 **[07:33] me** **  
**i suppose i have to be the bigger person in the situation  
i’ll pick u up in a bit

 **[07:34] don’t reply**  
if u take longer than 30 min im going back 2 sleep  
<(￣ ﹌ ￣)>

By the time Yuuichi is knocking on Tachikawa’s door, it’s exactly 29 minutes later and his phone has been lit up with several messages of Tachikawa insisting he’ll go through on the threat if Yuuichi doesn’t arrive soon. When Tachikawa pulls open the door, scowling and shoelaces undone, Yuuichi can’t help but snigger.

“Hi,” he says with a wave, “I’m on time.” Tachikawa looks murderous.

“You did this on purpose,” He hisses, but he’s stepping outside and closing the door with a huff regardless. “Come on, I’m starving,”

Yuuichi acknowledges that he’s hungry as well and quickens his pace to the car, already sighing over the bowl of ramen that is imminent in his future. Tachikawa monopolizes the radio as soon as they get in the car, but Yuuichi doesn’t mind. Tachikawa exclusively listens to bubbly, candy pop music and the sight of him singing along to the latest j-pop single never fails to amuse.

Their car ride, outside of Tachikawa’s tuneless humming, is spent in silence. It’s a nice, comfortable silence, facilitated by years of friendship and by the fact that Yuuichi knows if he talks, Tachikawa will find some way to twist the conversation to places he doesn’t want it to go. Tachikawa has had that look on his face all morning: the one where he looks like he’s trying to puzzle out some new opponent and form a plan of action. Coming from somebody as intense as Tachikawa, it’s not exactly the most comfortable thing to be faced with. They’re gearing up for confrontation, and while Yuuichi usually loves a good fight, today he’s just too tired. A slow, aching tiredness that he can place but really doesn’t want to. It’s not a good look, not after all this time.

Tachikawa, perceptive as ever over the most random of things, doesn’t say anything.

Eventually, they’re shuffling into the store, full of similarly sleepy-eyed patrons and energetic servers. Yuuichi picks the same table he always sits at when he goes here, and the waiter has been working long enough to recognize him. They make friendly small chat, and when he comes back with their orders there’s an extra plate of gyoza accompanying them. He walks away with a wink, and Yuuichi doesn’t need to look at Tachikawa to know what kind of expression he’s making.

“Wow,” he says, drawing out the word, “look at Mr Popularity over here,”

They’re both grinning like delighted schoolboys as Yuuichi picks up one of the gyoza with his chopsticks and takes a bite. “What can I say?” He says with a shrug, “I’m full of charm,”

Tachikawa rolls his eyes and starts eating. While they’re both relatively quiet at the start, they soon dive into discussions about work, sports games and any other topic under the sun. Yuuichi can tell that Tachikawa has reservations about how Yuuichi’s faring now that Arashiyama is back, but he keeps them silent and lets the conversation go where it goes, instead.

It’s a good feeling. It’s easy to forget, sometimes—especially for Yuuichi—but he and Tachikawa have been friends for a very long time, and Tachikawa has amassed plenty of skill in dealing with Yuuichi’s bullshit. He deftly avoids being overbearing or pitying and Yuuichi is glad for it, because right now he just wants to go on as before. Squaring his shoulders, moving forward one bit at a time.

In a moment like this, he thinks he’ll be just fine.

The bell over the door chimes, and Yuuichi idly listens as a waiter goes to greet the new customers. Tachikawa is still finishing the last of his bowl, while Yuuichi is done already, which gives him nothing else to distract him on when he hears a distinct, unmistakable voice ask for a table for two.

He turns around to see Ikoma being lead to a table, and is about to call out when he sees who is accompanying his friend. It’s too late to change anything, because the movement had caught Ikoma’s attention and he’s turning around, making eye contact with Yuuichi.

“Oh,” he exclaims, immediately bright, “Jin!”. The exclamation makes his companion turn around, and it’s a little ridiculous that Arashiyama has only been back for a few days and has already run into Yuuichi twice. Ikoma remembers who he’s with and turns to look at Arashiyama, then back at Yuuichi, and rectifies his earlier words with a more emphatic, cautious “Oh… Jin.”

“And Tachikawa,” Tachikawa adds crabbily.

“And Tachikawa,” Ikoma concedes, giving him a wave.

“Hey, Ikoma, Arashiyama,” Yuuichi says, sounding calmer than he is. Arashiyama has that smile on his face again, the one that reminds Yuuichi of countless days and countless nights spent together. Every memory of their relationship, wrapped up into a smile.

“Hello to you both,” Arashiyama says, pulling his hands out of his pockets to give a little wave. He then looks at Yuuichi. Yuuichi feels pinned. “You didn’t text,”

Right. He hadn’t. He gives an apologetic smile and shrugs, saying “I was going to later today.” The lie slides easily off of his tongue, and it seems that Arashiyama doesn’t pick up on it at all. He just brightens and nods.

“Right,” he says, sounding breathless. Yuuichi keeps looking at Arashiyama, even though he can feel Tachikawa’s gaze boring into him and hear Ikoma negotiating with the waiter about getting a table next to him and Tachikawa. He feels like he couldn’t look away if he tried, but then he does try, and he does look away. He returns his gaze to Tachikawa, who is all impassioned and calculating again, and the movement feels like a victory.

Tachikawa, ever attuned to the scent of triumph, gives him a smile.

Ikoma and Arashiyama end up sitting at the table next to them. The waiter from before takes the opportunity to talk to Yuuichi more when he brings out the other two’s orders, and Yuuichi can just ignore the way Tachikawa is wiggling his eyebrows in the background to enjoy the conversation. When he leaves, and Yuuichi returns his focus to his friends, he just catches Arashiyama’s gaze flicking away.

It’s not something he wants to dwell on, and he can no longer pinpoint the every gesture and emotion that Arashiyama has, so Yuuichi ignores it and moves on. The conversation flows well, although it’s mostly Tachikawa, Ikoma and Arashiyama talking. Yuuichi stays out of it and listens because he can’t quite manage to break past the three-year wall between him and Arashiyama.

It’s a strange, localized kind of awkwardness, because he’s the only one dealing with it. Although Tachikawa does give him assessing looks from time to time, he’s generally left alone by the other three and he doesn’t know whether that’s a good or bad thing.

Then, Yuuichi is saved by the bell—it rings and signals another new customer, and he looks up out of plain curiosity to see Kyousuke pulling off his jacket and hanging it over his arm. He immediately brightens up and waves, because Kyousuke is firmly on his side of the history hanging over the group of people he’s in, and he’s always been great backup.

Kyousuke, noticing him, walks over with his eyebrows raised as he takes in the rest of Yuuichi’s group. Everybody else follows Yuuichi’s gaze and notices him too, and there’s a chorus of greetings.

“Jin-san,” Kyousuke says in greeting, a worrying twinkle in his eye. “I didn’t realize there was a discount on ramen for people you used to date on today,”

It’s a critical blow. Yuuichi and Tachikawa immediately start snickering, even if Yuuichi is mad at Kyousuke for bringing it up when he had been trying so hard to ignore that particular fact. He looks over at the other two, trying to quell the grin on his face, to find Ikoma blushing and Arashiyama sporting an expression Yuuichi can’t recognize.

“We were barely a relationship,” Tachikawa interjects with a laugh. Kyousuke nods at this, pulling over a chair and joining Yuuichi and Tachikawa’s table.

“Very true,” he says with reason, leaning over to steal one the last gyoza Yuuichi had, “you made Konami-senpai third wheel on most of your dates, after all,”

Tachikawa’s grin turns poisonous and this time it’s Ikoma and Arashiyama who are laughing.

“Brat,” Tachikawa huffs gently. Yuuichi laughs, because it’s obvious how pleased Tachikawa is at the sudden drama, even if he’s still embarrassed.

“Goodness,” Yuuichi lectures Kyousuke affectionately, “don’t just walk in and immediately start causing conflict.”

He ruffles Kyousuke’s hair, enough to dislodge his perfectly tousled bangs, and Kyousuke wrinkles his nose at Yuuichi.

“I’m just stating the truth,” he deadpans, a hand coming up immediately to fix his hair. Yuuichi smiles at him indulgently, because it doesn’t matter if they’re past the mentor-mentee stage: he’ll always adore Kyousuke.

“Come on, I’ll treat you,” Yuuichi says. Kyousuke smiles, reaching for the menu as Tachikawa shakes his head in the background.

“Why don’t you love me like that?” Tachikawa laments.

Yuuichi snorts. “I don’t love you at all, actually,”

Everybody laughs at that, and Yuuichi feels begrudging warmth as he watches Tachikawa mime out a backstabbing. When Kyousuke’s order arrives, Yuuichi is content to discuss life with him, separated from the other three as they catch up.

They all end up leaving at the same time. As they shuffle out of the store, Yuuichi finds himself walking between Arashiyama and Tachikawa, and even if they’ve hung out together many times before, Yuuichi is struck by the presence of two of the most important people in his life, side by side.

Arashiyama has that look on his face again, the one from earlier that Yuuichi can’t understand. He thinks he wants to understand, but he’s got a track record of wanting things he shouldn’t have, so he tamps down the feeling.

Arashiyama breathes in, looks away from Yuuichi, then says “You and Ikoma were together?”

Right. Yuuichi had forgotten that Arashiyama hadn’t been around for that; it’s sort of ridiculous how he can spend three years sharply feeling his absence and then he comes back and it’s like he fits seamlessly into his life again. He nods, face carefully schooled to be as casual as possible. Beside him, Tachikawa is quiet but geared up, probably ready to jump in if Yuuichi needs him to.

But it’s fine. Yuuichi is an adult, and he can handle this.

“Yeah, two years ago,” he replies with a sunny smile. He can see the calculations lining up in Arashiyama’s head; two years ago is one year after he left, and Yuuichi wonders how Arashiyama interprets that empty, gaping space of time.

It hadn’t been a good relationship. Ikoma had tried, and Yuuichi had tried, but Yuuichi had too many sharp edges and instead of blunting them down, Ikoma had tried to navigate around them. Not an ideal situation, for either of them.

He doesn’t feel particularly like divulging this information to Arashiyama, so all he says is “It didn’t last too long, though.”

Arashiyama has a faraway look in his eyes, and for a moment Yuuichi gets a distinct feeling that Arashiyama doesn’t understand Yuuichi-three-years-later, as much as Yuuichi doesn’t understand Arashiyama-three-years-later. It’s an obvious conclusion, but not one that Yuuichi had truly _felt_ until that moment.

That’s okay. That makes him feel a little better.

They come to the parking lot, and part ways with amicable goodbyes and easy promises for _next time_. Arashiyama doesn’t bring up the texting thing again, which gives Yuuichi the impression that he doesn’t care as much as Yuuichi had thought. That’s okay, too. It also, strangely, makes him feel a little better.

Tachikawa, once they’re sitting in the car, seems to release a breath that he’d been holding the entire walk back.

“That was… fun,” Yuuichi says, testing the waters.

Tachikawa scoffs. “That was so awkward that if I had to sit through another second I would’ve probably exploded.”

Yuuichi laughs, clear and uninhibited. Glad to see that they’re on the same page.

“Back to your place?” He asks, and Tachikawa nods.

“Yeah, Kako should be awake by now. Maybe I can kick your asses in Mariokart again,”

Yuuichi narrows his eyes at the challenge. Some friendly—though, not that friendly in reality—competition is probably just what he needs.

＝＝＝

Kako is curled up on the couch when they arrive back at the apartment, looking so uncannily like a cat that both Yuuichi and Tachikawa end up laughing at the image. As composed as ever, she simply raises her eyebrow at them until they calm down.

“I’m happy to see you too,” she drawls. Her smile is taunting, the same taunting that Yuuichi finds in Tachikawa’s smile and in his own, crescent grin, and Yuuichi wonders what would have happened if he had agreed to move in with them, a couple of years ago. Surefire destruction is the obvious answer.

“Where have you two been?” Kako asks as she gets up, off to make tea or something like the diligent hostess she is. Yuuichi, as the guest, makes himself comfortable on the couch and watches Tachikawa setup the game system.

“We went to get ramen,” Tachikawa calls over his shoulder. Yuuichi hears the sounds of the kettle going, then Kako is walking back into the living room and leaning against the wall.

“Took an awfully long time,” she comments, ever relaying more meaning than she what says.

“We ran into some friends along the way and ended up eating together,” Tachikawa replies, then yelling in triumph when the console finally connects. “And before you ask, you nosy hag, it was Ikoma, Arashiyama and then that kid Karasuma.”

“He’s only four years younger than you,” Yuuichi snorts. 

Kako does not say anything.

The pause in the conversation is what alarms Yuuichi the most, as he turns to look at her. Usually, when Kako and Tachikawa talk, they are never off-beat, always ready with a reply, but this time, Kako is silent.

“Arashiyama Jun?” is what she finally says, though she doesn’t sound like she needs the confirmation much. “He’s back?”

Yuuichi doesn’t look away in time and Kako turns to look at him, with a stare so heavy he can practically feel it pressing him in place. He smiles and with an easy wave of his hands says “Yeah, a few days ago,”

Yuuichi doesn’t have the same familiarity that he has with Tachikawa with Kako: all things considered, she’s a relatively new friend. However, it’s hard to interpret the emotion that crosses her face as anything but haughty, reserved contempt, and it’s so shocking to see on her features that he finds himself at a loss for words.

“Are you two talking again?” She asks, clipping her words with cold efficiency.

Yuuichi, still somewhat bewildered, shrugs. “He gave me his number, but I haven’t texted him yet,”

Kako makes a displeased hum. “Do you want to talk to him again?”

Yuuichi isn’t sure why he’s being interrogated so thoroughly, so he looks to Tachikawa for help or at least some kind of understanding. Tachikawa, surprisingly, offers none: the expression he has on his face is as laid back as ever, but Yuuichi can see the hints of steel underneath. 

Okay—so Tachikawa and Kako are on the same page, and he’s still got no idea what’s happening.

“Sure, why not,” is the answer he settles on in the face of Kako’s scorn. Her expression tightens, but she doesn’t say anything. 

It’s Tachikawa who speaks next, cutting in with a “Let him do what he wants. He can handle himself, you overprotective mother.”

The darkness in Kako’s expression expels in seconds, replaced with joking indignance as she casts Tachikawa a dirty look.

“Better than being a deadbeat father,” she snaps back.

“I don’t think I’m comfortable with either of you as my parents,” Yuuichi inserts, and then both Kako and Tachikawa turn to glare at him.

“Our son is so ungrateful,” Kako mourns, then directs at Tachikawa, “this is all your fault. No wonder he turned out badly when you’re a terrible parent,”

Tachikawa scoffs and says “You’re probably right, but fuck you anyway.”

Then they’re all laughing and the tension from earlier is forgotten, even when Kako sits down on the couch beside Yuuichi and asks him “Are you okay with Arashiyama being back?”

He’s tired of it: the concern, the pity, the sympathy, he’s tired of  _ all _ of it but when Kako asks, it doesn’t seem so terrible. He puts up less of a fight.

“Yeah,” he says, maybe being truthful for the first time in the past few days. “It’s… it’s weird but, I’m okay.” Yuuichi does not elaborate, does not admit that maybe he missed Arashiyama so much that it had choked him, that Arashiyama is in the same city as him now but he still feels as distant as before, that time has done nothing to heal this wound and he’s lived with it so long that he doesn’t mind it anymore. 

It seems that Kako gathers all of that anyway.

She shrugs and rolls her eyes and picks up a controller. With a smirk, she declares “Ready to get your asses beat?”

Yuuichi laughs, hands on his own controller, and snipes back “You’re on.”

⇐⇐⇐

Yuuichi spends a slow week in silence. His apartment is so very big and so very empty without another person to fill the space, and in the places where Arashiyama had once been there is nothing but a hard, persistent aching.

He has always been so, so terrible at keeping things, and twice as terrible at letting them go. The emptiness is familiar and Yuuichi falls back into its embrace, exhausted.

Arashiyama’s departure hangs over him, a deadline that he cannot avoid and cannot complete. He feels like he should be doing something, even just to occupy his time, but his attention wanders far and wide; to the quiet dorms of an entertainment company, to the breezy shores of Australia.  _ Tomorrow _ , his heart whispers, because his heart has always been a quiet, timid thing; it’s his mind that shouts, that  _ screams _ , that echoes.

There’s a knock at the door. Yuuichi is not one for false hopes but he still has to control himself, quell the desperation that bleeds into his every movement as he goes to open the door.

He pulls it open, and Kakizaki greets him with a kind smile. Yuuichi almost laughs.

A few people have dropped by in the week, as the news had spread, but they had never stayed long. Yuuichi feels like they could see how much he wants to be alone, and he’s a little grateful for it.

Still, Kakizaki is an old, treasured friend, so he invites him in. Yuuichi is a little surprised to see him; over the course of the past few days, his circles had split into two. He’d never quite processed how seamlessly his and Arashiyama’s lives had blended until he had to watch nearly all of his friends gravitate to one person or the other; it’s not picking sides, just simply changing the boundaries. 

“This place looks different,” Kakizaki comments. 

Yuuichi raises an eyebrow at that and goes “Goodness, I wonder why.”

Kakizaki laughs at that, a soft and gentle sound that reminds Yuuichi so much of Arashiyama that it almost hurts. 

Kakizaki had been Arashiyama’s friend first, after all, and in moments like these it shows. It’s odd to think, that both Yuuichi and Arashiyama had had lives before each other, and stranger still to think that he now has to live a life after Arashiyama.

Yuuichi decides it’s in both of their best interests to get straight to the point, so he asks “What brings you here?”

Kakizaki looks at Yuuichi. For a fleeting second, Yuuichi feels all of the sadness he’s built up over the past few days reflected back at him, suffocating him, before Kakizaki’s expression smoothes out. Yuuichi feels winded.

“Are you going to the airport?” Kakizaki asks.

Yuuichi shakes his head. He smiles. Hard, like if he tries hard enough it’ll turn into a real one.

“I think I’ve already said my goodbyes,” Yuuichi says with a light, airy tone. And he has. He has taken all that he can of Arashiyama’s time, maybe even far exceeded his limit, and now all he can do is resolve himself to having whatever’s left.

Kakizaki sighs, but he nods. “Fair enough,” He murmurs, like he’s trying to comfort Yuuichi. It doesn’t work, but Yuuichi tries to smile reassuringly anyway.

They both fall silent and at this point, Yuuichi is sick to his stomach of silence, but he grins and bears it because Kakizaki, number one representative of Arashiyama Jun, is here and it’s the closest he’s going to get to Arashiyama for the next however many years.

Kakizaki’s expression falls into a grimace, like he’s going to say something he doesn’t want to.

“It’s weird, you know, seeing you two apart,” he sighs. “It feels like—like you’re both just getting lost in translation. I’m not saying you should, but it just feels like if you saw each other eye to eye, things could get better.”

Yuuichi thinks he understands. He doesn’t like to hear it, and the ache in his chest only gets worse at the words, but he thinks he understands. 

He thinks that maybe Arashiyama had been the best thing in his life. He thinks that maybe, after this, he’ll never be able to look anybody else in the eye again.

“I don’t know what I can do about that,” Yuuichi replies, because it’s true. Arashiyama is going to board a plane.  _ Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow _ and even though they’re still whispers, they reverberate again and again in Yuuichi’s mind until he can’t fucking take it. “I can’t stop him from going,”

Kakizaki sighs again.

“Yeah,” He murmurs. “I would never forgive you,”

Yuuichi laughs. “I imagine I’m on thin ice already,”

Kakizaki shakes his head. “You’re both adults. You’re old enough to make each other miserable if you so choose,”

“Short-term misery for long-term happiness,” Yuuichi says, not believing it in the least. Arashiyama will probably find it, but Yuuichi knows it’s only downhill from here for him.

Kakizaki frowns and makes eye contact, his expression steely. 

“I think… if you saw the look on his face now that you aren’t around, you’d find it much harder to say that.”

Yuuichi doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do with that information.

⇒⇒⇒

Yuuichi waits a few days before he texts Arashiyama. It’s a mix of being suddenly busy—his job is always busy but it has spikes at random moments and leaves Yuuichi rushing with the adrenaline—and Yuuichi’s quiet attempt at pretending he doesn’t miss Arashiyama.

But he does, and he does  _ badly _ , so he texts. Now that he knows Arashiyama is just within reach he cannot resist the urge to reach out. He’s accepted a better, happier fate where they become friends again, and he can be content with that. That’s what Arashiyama wants, and Yuuichi won’t deny him anything.

**[13:09] me** **  
** hey, it’s jin

Arashiyama texts back almost immediately. It sets Yuuichi a little on edge, but he feels anticipation bubble up to compete against the feeling.

**[13:10] Arashiyama Jun** ****  
Hey!   
It’s Arashiyama

**[13:10] me** ****  
i know   
you gave me your number

**[13:11] Arashiyama Jun** **  
** Just checking :P

Yuuichi is already smiling. Talking to Arashiyama, being around Arashiyama has always been so, so easy, and so few things in Yuuichi’s life are easy anymore. He wants this, the reconciliation, the companionship, the  _ anything _ . Having some of Arashiyama is better than having none of him at all.

**[13:13] Arashiyama Jun** **  
** Are you still a paramedic?

**[13:13] me** ****  
yeah   
tragically i work with tachikawa now

**[13:13] Arashiyama Jun** ****  
Well   
At least you know he has your back

**[13:14] me** ****  
he’s good in situations of danger   
but totally unreliable any other time

**[13:14] Arashiyama Jun** **  
** Glad to see your friendship is blossoming as well as ever

The reminder of the three years of separation is a bitter one. Arashiyama treats it so gently, so casually; they had been three years for him, nothing less and nothing more. A natural progression of life for him, and not the silent blanket they had been for Yuuichi.

Yuuichi doesn’t know what he wants to say:  _ it was only three years _ , maybe, if only those words didn’t seem like such a lie. Maybe  _ it was only three years, in comparison to a near-lifetime _ , as if those words aren’t bitter and dangerous. 

While he’s thinking, his phone buzzes again.

**[13:17] Arashiyama Jun** ****  
Hey   
Can we call?

It’s a coincidence, but Yuuichi still smiles at how Arashiyama so easily tides over his overthinking. A call would be nice. Safer. The two of them had never been big on texting: not with how well they understand each other, a strong understanding woven between voice inflections and pauses and inhale-exhales.

**[13:16] me** **  
** sure

It only takes a few seconds before his phone is buzzing persistently, his screen lit up with  _ Arashiyama Jun is calling… _ for the first time in three years.

He picks up.

“ _ Hey _ ,” Arashiyama says, sounding breathless. He sounds like he’s outside as well, if the noise of traffic is anything to judge by.

Yuuichi asks “Where are you?”

There’s a shuffle, telltale sounds of movement, and then the background is a little quieter. “ _ I’m taking a walk _ ,” Arashiyama says. He pauses, but Yuuichi can feel that this pause heralds more, so he waits. Then: “ _ Taking in the sights, exploring, you know. I’ve been away a while, _ ”

His tone is wistful. Yuuichi curls up on the couch and presses the phone to his ear, loathe to miss anything that Arashiyama says. Yuuichi replies “It’s Mikado, same as ever,”. He doesn’t say  _ maybe even worse off, without you _ . Over the phone, Arashiyama huffs a laugh and it comes across as a burst of static but the sound still sets something alight in Yuuichi, a carefully nurtured flame that has been burning low for so, so long.

“ _ I think you might be right, _ ” Arashiyama says, amused and pleased and all of those emotions that Yuuichi has sort of forgotten how to feel. “ _ I guess I just missed it, _ ”

Yuuichi smiles, even if Arashiyama isn’t there to see it. The two of them are silent for a while, apart from the sounds of their breathing and the consistent, soothing sound of Arashiyama’s walking. Yuuichi thinks he can tell what route he’s taking: the sounds of traffic have faded out and he’s almost certain he hears the motion of water. He’s going along the riverbank, probably.

Arashiyama asks, “ _ Are you living with Tachikawa again? _ ”, between exhales, and Yuuichi is somehow endeared by the breathless contentment he finds there.

“No,” He replies, “he still lives with Kako. We work with her as well, she’s a helicopter pilot.”

“ _ The thought of you three in a helicopter together is scary,” _ Arashiyama muses, then giving a clearly fake shudder. Yuuichi can imagine the easy grin on his face.

Yuuichi laughs and confirms it with “Believe me, the thought compares nothing to the real experience,”. 

From there something just clicks, because their conversation picks up and flows like the river Arashiyama is walking beside. Yuuichi talks about work and Arashiyama talks about Australia and they talk about anything in between as well and it’s  _ good _ . 

It is so easy, so simple, to accept Arashiyama back into his life again. Yuuichi has a million reservations but he’s missed Arashiyama enough to ignore all of them, to forgo caution and foresight and take the leap.

They talk for hours, painstakingly filling in the three-year gap in each other’s lives. It still hurts, and it will probably never stop hurting, but Yuuichi is okay. He can bear it. And the privilege of being a part of Arashiyama’s life again, of Arashiyama being a part of his life, is enough to let him bear any pain.

⇐⇐⇐

It all boils over, one quiet winter night. 

Yuuichi comes home from work to a dark lounge but lit kitchen, the telltale sounds of cooking alerting him to Arashiyama’s presence. 

He allows himself to relax, sink into a weary peace with the knowledge that they both have a rare free weekend ahead of them. Both of their schedules have been so hectic and Yuuichi misses Arashiyama. Their brief meetings across the weeks, stolen moments and tired nights, haven’t been enough for him.

He sets down his bags, shrugs off his jacket and makes his way to the kitchen.

Arashiyama turns around at the sounds of footsteps, a fond smile already adorning his face and making Yuuichi feel all the warmer. He steps forward a little faster, fully intent on kissing the soft blush that highlighted Arashiyama’s cheeks, except when he’s close enough to reach out, Arashiyama jerks away.

It’s a stiff, aborted motion and in the end Arashiyama doesn’t even bring himself to move that far away, but Yuuichi is stilled in surprise from it anyway, the aftershocks ringing through him loud and raw.

Arashiyama’s expression twists, crumbles, just barely. To Yuuichi, it’s like watching a cave-in.

“We need to talk,” Arashiyama says. Looking down at their feet and then back up at Yuuichi, he takes two very careful steps back, until he’s close enough to set his hands on the kitchen counter. It looks like he’s using them to hold himself up, and instability has never looked so out of place on somebody.

Yuuichi feels a little out of it; he’s completely thrown off balance and unsure which way is up anymore. He steps back as well, hand coming into contact with the back of a chair and gripping it hard.

Arashiyama, eyes not meeting his, says “Tachikawa dropped by today,” in the softest tone.

Yuuichi’s blood runs cold. 

He knows where this is going.

“To congratulate you,” is all Arashiyama elaborates. His voice is muffled underneath confusion and pain that Yuuichi can so easily pick out, the way his tongue twists around the words unfamiliar and anxious. Maybe Yuuichi had known this was coming, maybe he should’ve known this was coming, but now that he’s here he doesn’t know what to say.

“Rescue paramedic accreditation,” Arashiyama whispers.

Yuuichi feels his stomach twist into knots. He doesn’t know what he’s going to say— _ I was going to tell you _ is a lie, and Arashiyama will always know when Yuuichi is lying, but the truth is an ever more poisonous dagger.  _ You were never supposed to find out _ seeps into the cracks in his composure and make him swallow, throat dry.

His silence serves as response enough. Yuuichi can see it in how Arashiyama’s expression tightens and how his fingers begin to clutch at the counter. Arashiyama can always read all the right answers off of Yuuichi; there’s never been a need for words.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuichi says, because at the very least he can offer Arashiyama this: his remorse, his regret. 

Arashiyama looks even more pained than before. “Yuuichi,” he asks, his tone a little imploring, “how long have you been hiding this?”. Yuuichi, as well-versed at reading Arashiyama as Arashiyama is with him, can hear the quieter thoughts that run behind the words. _How much have you been hiding?_ _How bad has it become?_

And Yuuichi has no other choice, really, he never had any other choice, than to let it all out. He starts “I think I—”

He’s cut off by the buzzing of a phone. Both pairs of eyes in the room land on the phone on the dining table, and Yuuichi can clearly see the words  _ Manager _ light up the screen. He turns back to Arashiyama, who is already moving to grab his phone with quick, hasty movements. There’s a strain on his face, but it’s a different one from the hurt of earlier. This one is more desperate, more anxious, and now that Yuuichi isn’t blinded by his own concerns and secrets he can easily identify the emotion. It’s so obvious, in how Arashiyama decisively shuts off the call, in how he cradles his phone like it’s something he can never show to the world, that he wonders how he had missed it at all.

They’ve both been so caught up, in their own tangles and messes.

“Jun,” he says, trying to keep his voice level. Arashiyama meets his eyes and in the few seconds of eye contact, they come to an understanding. Arashiyama can see the recognition in Yuuichi’s gaze, and that’s it. The ruse is up, for them both.

Arashiyama’s shoulders slump.

“You’ve been keeping things from me,” Yuuichi says. He never means to make the first move in these situations, so comfortable with deception he is, but he always ends up doing it anyway. Maybe because Arashiyama is the only person more—not deceptive, but enclosed, than him; it brings out a penchant for truth that he didn’t know he had.

Arashiyama, standing up a little straighter in an attempt at cheer because as always, he needs to put up a good front, says “You’ve been keeping things from me too,”. He keeps his voice light, like the words aren’t a death sentence on them both.

Yuuichi is unsure what exactly he should be feeling right now, how he should be reacting, so all he does is let out a shaky breath and nod, eyes downcast.

They’re both silent for a while. The weight of confession hangs heavy over them both and it chokes everything Yuuichi wants to say into silence, and he can’t quite find the energy to force the words out. When he looks up again, Arashiyama is already looking at him and he looks so  _ lost _ that Yuuichi’s breath rushes out in one fast exhale.

“It’s stuff with work, right?” Yuuichi asks. He watches as Arashiyama schools his expression into something a little more composed but none the more bearable; Yuuichi can too easily tell how feigned it is.

“Yeah,” Arashiyama sighs, “there’s been… a lot going on.” There is a jaded caution behind the words, like Arashiyama is surrendering them up unwillingly, and that makes Yuuichi blanch.

His next words are slipping out without conscious thought or effort, a defense mechanism triggered on instinct after years and years of honing it. A resigned smile on his face, an affected lilt to his voice, then: “When did you stop trusting me, Jun?”

It’s not what he means to say. It’s not what he wants to say. He wants to take back the words immediately as soon as they’re out in the air, adding to the already suffocating atmosphere of the room and Arashiyama’s expression  _ wrenches _ , any prior emotion replaced only by frantic panic and fear.

“ _ No _ ,” Arashiyama stumbles, “that’s not it, I always, always trust you. I will  _ always _ trust you. It’s just… I’ve just…”

As he trails off, the stricken look on his face is replaced with a hollow defeat. It’s not something Yuuichi wants to see. It tugs at something in him, a deep-set instinct to protect, to preserve.

He says “No, I’m sorry, I know you do. I shouldn’t have said that, I didn’t mean it, I  _ know _ you would never—” and doesn’t get any further. 

Every word makes Arashiyama’s face darken further and then he’s interrupting Yuuichi’s apology with a pained “Yuuichi, stop,”

Arashiyama breathes in shakily.  “I can’t do this anymore,” he confesses. He chokes on the end of his words and has to bring up a hand to cover his mouth, trembling with the effort of merely breathing.

Yuuichi, feeling lost, murmurs “What?”

Arashiyama looks so young and so sad and so vulnerable and Yuuichi wants to reach out, but there is a clear wall between them that he has no idea how to knock down. He thinks he had helped to build it, and now it stands too strong and tall from their combined efforts. The thought makes him feel like throwing up.

The hand comes away from Arashiyama’s mouth. Quietly, he says “I think we need to break up.”

When Yuuichi had been young, too young, he had waited in a hospital for three days. On the last day, when he was on the verge of being convinced by his godfather to finally come home, a doctor had approached him. He’ll never quite forget the way the air rushed out of his lungs and then out of the world, leaving no oxygen behind for him to breathe, when the doctor told him that his mother had passed away. 

It had been an awful, helpless despair.

This is nothing like that.

This is like getting hit by a wave, caught in a riptide. He can feel the impact smash against him over and over and his first instinct is to struggle, to lash out, to find anything to hold onto.

With a cracking voice, he says “What? Are you—what—what are you saying?”

Arashiyama is crying now and the sight digs a knife deep into Yuuichi’s chest and twists it, vicious and unforgiving.

Between hiccups and hitched breaths, crying being the only thing he’ll look ungainly at, Arashiyama says “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry but I can’t do this anymore,”

Yuuichi abandons all caution and steps forward, reaching towards Arashiyama. 

Arashiyama moves away, and that’s when Yuuichi begins to fully understand.

“You’re serious,” he says, as if there was ever a chance of Arashiyama joking about something like this. “You want to… to break up,”

He wishes his voice would stop sounding so defeated, but he doesn’t have control over anything in this situation, himself included.

Arashiyama tries so hard to contain his crying, muffling his sobs into his hand even as he nods and blinks away tears to look at Yuuichi. “I’m sorry, Yuuichi,” he says again, like Yuuichi doesn’t feel like the ground is falling out from underneath him and Arashiyama is simply watching him fall, “I can’t do it. It’s not working. We aren’t working,”

“Is it something I’m doing?” Yuuichi asks, because he has to know. The pained glint in Arashiyama’s eyes only strengthens at his words and Yuuichi is so, hopelessly lost, so far from following the path that Arashiyama is taking that he can’t even see him anymore.

“No,” Arashiyama hisses, like he’s  _ angry _ and Yuuichi doesn’t know why. “It’s not always you, Yuuichi, it’s not you at all and I wish you would—” and then he’s stopped by a sob that sounds a little like a laugh as well.

Yuuichi reaches out again. It’s all he knows to do when he’s lost: reach for Arashiyama, over and over, his stability and his guide and his comfort.

“Jun,” he begs, “tell me what’s wrong.”

Arashiyama breathes in and the sobs seem to decrease, his tattered composure coming back together. He looks at Yuuichi with a gaze painted with remorse and grief and replies “I don’t think I can,” like it’s the most heartbreaking thing he’s ever said. Maybe it is. Yuuichi isn’t sure he’ll ever hear something that hurts more than those words.

“I think I need to be alone,” Arashiyama says. Yuuichi reads it off his face and through his body; he means  _ need to be alone _ in the greater, relationship context. He needs this— _ them _ —to end. “I don’t think I can do this,”

And that is what hurts Yuuichi the most: the implications that this relationship, that everything they’ve built, requires more than Arashiyama can give, because Yuuichi has never had to put any excess effort, any surplus energy, into loving Arashiyama Jun. It’s something that comes like second nature, as easily and naturally as breathing.

Yuuichi feels himself choking up and he doesn’t think he can take the sympathy he knows will be on Arashiyama’s face.

He says, without feeling it, without believing it, “I need to go,”

Arashiyama hears it and hears underneath, hears Yuuichi’s  _ I need to be alone, I need to be away from all of this _ . He nods, understanding painting his features and somehow making him look even more mournful.

“I can leave,” he says but it doesn’t matter. Yuuichi is already turning around, body running on autopilot as he grabs his jacket and his keys—he hadn’t even settled in for the night, and he doesn’t know if this is a misfortune or not—and striding towards the door.

He doesn’t sense any movement from Arashiyama as he tugs the door open and steps through it, making sure to close it gently behind him so as to not betray his emotions. 

As the door clicks shut, he suddenly feels swamped, exhausted, pulled along by the riptide for too long and sapped of all his energy. He’s alone in the hallway, and the night is dark and the light is dim, and he feels so, so very lost.

With unsteady feet, he walks to his car. He slides into the driver’s seat. He barely registers the tears streaming down his face as he plugs the keys into the ignition and begins to drive.

⇒⇒⇒

Yuuichi rises early in the morning, as he tends to do. The sun is still rising, and the early spring weather is biting but reviving, so Yuuichi decides to go for a run. The route he takes is the same one he’s been taking for the past three years. 

He never used to go running, but he had gotten in the habit of developing new habits, after the split. Finding a part of his life that hadn’t sung of Arashiyama had been difficult, so he had started creating new parts instead. New habits, new haunts, new beginnings. The process of moving on.

The way is quiet and he’s not surprised; it is early and Mikado is a slow moving city, slow to rise and slow to sleep. He embraces the silence and tries to let it overtake him, until he’s swamped with nothing but the quiet of the world around him.

He feels a little alone, but in a good way. In a free, untethered sort of way that he rarely ever feels.

Then, he turns a corner and almost trips over a dog.

The dog, a Japanese spitz who is already jumping all over Yuuichi’s legs as he tries to regain his breath, is attached to a leash which in turn is attached to a person’s hand. As Yuuichi’s gaze travels upwards, his breath catches and does not return because he’s suddenly staring into the face of Arashiyama, breathtakingly backlit by the rising sun.

Arashiyama is in the middle of saying something, and Yuuichi only tunes in for the “—sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was…” before he trails off. 

They stand and stare at each other for a while, before Arashiyama breaks into a smile.

“Jin,” he says, amused. The use of Yuuichi’s last name is interesting: it sets a strange boundary between them, and Yuuichi feels tempted to toe the line. “Hi,”

“Hi,” Yuuichi says back, because there’s not much else to do in the situation. He can see the smile building on Arashiyama’s face and he can feel one building on his own because this is frankly ridiculous, in the most wonderful of ways.

The dog barks, and Yuuichi leans down to pet it obligingly.

“This isn’t Koro,” he comments as he scratches behind the dog’s ear, earning a furiously wagging tail and pleased whines.

Arashiyama laughs in the clear, morning air and says “Koro is a family dog. I’ve had to pass him on to Saho. This darling is all mine,”. Then he pauses, looking briefly embarrassed, before he says “Meet Yuu.”

Yuuichi knows that there’s a smug grin on his face—it’s why Arashiyama refuses to meet his eyes—but he still acts innocent when he repeats “Yuu?”

“Not everything revolves around you, Jin,” Arashiyama retorts, acting like his words aren’t softened by affection. Yuuichi just laughs in response. He feels a little giddy—maybe it’s the early morning, or the lack of sleep, or maybe it’s because he’s here with Arashiyama, against not-quite-all but still fairly formidable odds. Now that he lets himself acknowledge it, he’s constantly bowled over by how much he had missed Arashiyama, and it feels nice to let himself indulge in the man’s presence.

He looks down at Yuu, who, like a typical spitz, cannot get enough of showing how much she loves him. He pets her one last time, cooing softly because she’s adorable, before standing up again and coming to eye level with Arashiyama. Yuu is still jumping all around him, excited at the new person, so Arashiyama calls her off gently and she obediently retreats. Yuuichi watches her trot back towards Arashiyama and it’s so obvious, how much she loves her owner even after such a short time.

Typical Arashiyama, never losing his charm.

She returns to his feet and Arashiyama looks down adoringly at her. They make a good pair, Yuuichi notes, something terribly fond and kind lodging itself in his chest. He feels achey all over but he watches Arashiyama fawn over his new puppy anyway, ignoring the pangs in his heart.

Arashiyama says “This is Jin Yuuichi, darling, do you like him?” and when Yuu barks loudly and excitedly, Arashiyama looks up at Yuuichi and beams. “I think that’s a yes,”

Yuuichi is struck, in the gentlest of ways, by how beautiful Arashiyama is. It is a thought that comes without pain, or bitterness and it sets Yuuichi alight, watching Arashiyama dote on his new dog as the sun rises over them. After all, under the layers of goodbyes and scars and memories, Yuuichi will probably always love Arashiyama in some way.

“You’re going to spoil her rotten,” Yuuichi says and his face hurts a little from smiling. His heart hurts a little as well.

Arashiyama nods, eyes sparkling and says “Guilty as charged,”

Maybe it’s the morning, so strongly associated with new beginnings, or maybe it’s because after all of his tossing and turning Yuuichi has decided that Arashiyama Jun will always have a place in his life, but Yuuichi cocks his head at Arashiyama and asks “May I join you on your walk?” 

This conversation, with all of its easy banter, has reminded Yuuichi so much of what he used to have and he  _ misses  _ it, with all of his heart and soul. Arashiyama is still such a tender subject to him, his mere presence poking at all of the sorest parts of Yuuichi’s heart but it is still far, far better than not having him around at all.

Arashiyama takes a while to take in these words. Yuuichi thinks that the emotion on his face is surprise, but it soon morphs into a distinctive delight that makes Yuuichi want to take off into the sky.

“Of course,” Arashiyama says, and he looks so, so happy that Yuuichi doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.

They set off together, with Yuu trotting along between them. They don’t talk, but it’s okay because the sounds of Yuu’s snuffles and the singing of the birds and the occasional clamour of traffic fill the air between them perfectly well. Yuuichi moves on autopilot, taking in his surroundings with a fascination he hasn’t had for Mikado since he first moved here. It’s a full moment; Yuuichi feels a little like he’s fit to burst from how large this morning feels.

When he remembers himself and checks on how his companions are doing, he finds Arashiyama unabashedly staring, an indecipherable look on his face. Maybe once upon a time, Yuuichi could’ve deduced what it means, but now, he has nothing but instinct to go on.

Yuuichi meets his eyes, and yet Arashiyama doesn’t look away. A small smile breaks onto his face.

“You look happy,” Arashiyama comments softly.

Yuuichi can do nothing else but smile and confirm “Yeah. I think I am,”

Another emotion washes over Arashiyama’s face, constantly expressive as he is, and Yuuichi thinks he recognizes it as  _ relief _ . It’s not what he’s expecting to see, but he doesn’t mind it because it doesn’t change the way Arashiyama is smiling, like he’s content. 

Yuuichi is as well, and it’s such a  _ release _ to realize it. He doesn’t know why he hadn’t noticed, but then again, he’s used to feeling like this around Arashiyama. It’s like wearing a shoe that one size too small; it’s manageable, but now that things are back to the way they were it’s an unimaginable comfort.

“I am too,” Arashiyama confides, first looking at Yuuichi, then down at Yuu. “I missed being here,”

Yuuichi looks at Yuu too, and her presence combined with Arashiyama’s last comment has something clicking into place for him.

He says “So you’re staying?” and pretends he’s not dying to hear the answer. From the sparkle in Arashiyama’s eye, it seems he knows anyway.

He replies “Yes. I’m staying.”

Yuuichi feels lighter than he has in days, in  _ years _ if he’s being truthful.

Arashiyama, never one to shy away from sentimentality, says “I missed you, you know.”

Yuuichi can tell that it’s meant with the best of intentions, and it comes as softly as a gentle breeze around him.

“Of course you did,” Yuuichi teases, “I’m the one and only talented elite,”

When Arashiyama laughs and Yuu, in her excitement, joins in with barking, it doesn’t feel like two people who were once in love awkwardly reuniting. It feels like coming home, to an old, familiar friend. Yuuichi will be okay, hopefully. Maybe his wounds are finally, finally healing. Maybe this is what it takes: settling for a friendship, a gentle estrangement.

⇐⇐⇐

Yuuichi scrolls idly, barely paying attention to the text and images that flicker on past. It’s a remnant of a sort of routine, when he wasn’t living in this wide empty apartment alone, of huddling on his couch with Arashiyama and browsing their social media together. They would voice commentary on the occasional interesting thing they saw and bask in each other’s presence, and even though Yuuichi is alone now, he continues the tradition. It’s not nearly as enjoyable, but he clings to the routine like it’ll bring Arashiyama back to him.

A headline catches his eye. He tries not to think about how it’s been five days since he’s flown. The headline reads _ Arashiyama Jun turns down big role - find out why!  _ He tries not to think about how it’s been more than five days since they’ve talked. 

Yuuichi clicks on the link despite himself. 

He thinks, as he tends to do, about Arashiyama.

He’s not sure what he expects from the article, but what he gets isn’t it. It’s from before Arashiyama had left for Australia—and how sour those words are on his mind—and it details a statement from the casting director. An offer had been made to Arashiyama, it says, to act in one of the most anticipated Japanese films, but he had refused. Yuuichi can’t remember ever hearing about this offer, even though all of this had all conspired when they had still been dating.

It makes him suspect a little more, pick a little harder at a slowly unravelling piece of fabric. Slowly, he can piece together bits and pieces of the past: things he hadn’t taken notice of then, but could afford the attention they deserve now.

It’s not a good picture, and what’s more, he can’t confirm or deny anything. He and Arashiyama haven’t talked, not since their last texted goodbyes before Arashiyama had flown. Maybe it had been cowardly of Yuuichi to not send him off at the airport, but Yuuichi doesn’t claim any bravery in the face of Arashiyama anyway.

Yuuichi thinks he wants to talk about it, but therein lies the problem. He only ever wants to talk to Arashiyama. Like that, loneliness makes an unwilling companion out of him.

He sets down his phone, heart out of his chest and instead halfway across the world, and goes to get ready for bed. His nightly routine had been sparse before, but it is practically nonexistent now that he rushes through it, trying to ignore the fact he’s doing it alone. He thinks he might need to get out of this apartment, but parting with it hurts in an entirely different and potent way. This apartment is full of memories, and no matter where he looks, he sees Arashiyama. And even though it hurts, and it bleeds, and it festers, Yuuichi doesn’t know if he’s ready to let that go. 

It seems just barely better than having Arashiyama out of his life completely.

⇒⇒⇒

Yuuichi manages a few days of relative normalcy; he pretends that he doesn’t feel the three year gap between him and Arashiyama whenever they talk—and they have talked a decent amount. He goes to work, he bickers with Tachikawa, he lives his routine with the simple added element of Arashiyama. It’s strange to be living a life where Arashiyama isn’t the focal point of it all, instead an afterthought or accompaniment, but Yuuichi manages it.

He’s forced out of his routine by a banging at his door. With some reservations, he gets up to open it: the person sounds very aggressive, and if Yuuichi’s suspicions are correct, he’s definitely not emotionally prepared for the confrontation that’s about to follow.

When he opens the door to find Konami Kirie standing on his doorstep, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed, his suspicions are proved right. Now, for his fears to be proved right too.

Konami comes inside without any fanfare, without any greetings, and Yuuichi just rolls his eyes and lets her storm in. She throws her jacket onto the couch and then turns to Yuuichi, a fire burning in her eyes that immediately forebodes trouble.

“You’ve been talking to Jun again,” she states. Accuses, almost, but she retains enough dignity that it doesn’t quite reach that.

Yuuichi nods. He feels like he’s been expecting this conversation, especially with how Konami had reacted after the breakup.

“Yeah, I have,” he says, “is that a problem?” The teasing in his tone is just enough to lighten the mood and it works, showing in how Konami rolls her eyes and relaxes her pose.

Tone softer, she says “And you’re okay about it?”

It doesn’t sound like a question that she really needs answering, but Yuuichi nods nonetheless, giving her a little thumbs up as well. She scoffs at the sight, smile pulling at her features. 

“So you’re going to be friends again,” she says, her voice placing a slight emphasis on  _ friends _ . Or maybe it’s just Yuuichi’s imagination; he’s not entirely used to thinking about Arashiyama in the context of friendship.

“That’s the plan,” he tells her. 

Konami narrows her eyes and crosses her arms, and Yuuichi is strangely reminded of how Kako had looked a few days ago when Arashiyama had been brought up. It’s the same disapproval, the same measured disdain, and he’s not sure what to make of it.

He takes a moment to appreciate that Konami and Kako have never met, because he’s not sure that he or Tachikawa would come out of that encounter alive.

With a shake of her head, Konami looks away and says, very pointedly, “And you think you’re both happy with that?”

There’s a point somewhere, underneath all of Konami’s vague scorn and exasperation, but Yuuichi would really appreciate if she just stated it plainly. He’s not in the mood to decipher all of the hints she seems to be dropping; he’s only just broken out of the habit of reading into every interaction he has with Arashiyama and he doesn’t need to start with Konami as well.

He says “I don’t know about Arashiyama, but I’m happy enough,”

Konami gives him a deadpan look.

“First,” she says, raising up a finger, “you’re still the only person on this planet who knows Jun well. Second,” she pauses for emphasis, “everybody kind of let you get away with it, but don’t you think it’s time you stopped living in denial?”

“Goodness,” Yuuichi says, feeling a little targeted. Konami’s brand of tough-love is always fun to be the victim of. 

The worst part is that he thinks she might have a point. 

“Very cryptic. I like it. Have you considered being a motivational speaker?”

Konami huffs a laugh, because she’s never been that great and being serious over things—it’s one of the reasons they get along so well—and walks over to flick Yuuichi lightly in the forehead.

“Oi, I mean it,” she says meaningfully, “if you’re really going to be friends again, you need to deal with this,” On  _ this _ , she gestures very broadly all around them.

“That was very vague and unclear, thank you,” Yuuichi says. Konami gives him a scathing look.

“You didn’t watch his movie, did you? The one he filmed in Australia.”

Yuuichi shakes his head. He had kind of been hoping he could go his whole life without seeing it.

Konami, lips pursed and gaze downright grave, says “You should. I think it’ll clear up a lot of things,”

Yuuichi, with no other real option, nods in agreement. Konami seems to accept his answer as the truth—and it mostly is the truth, and she relaxes.

“Come on then, catch me up on how you’ve been,” she says with a smile, somehow making asking  _ how are you _ into a challenge. Yuuichi, with a smile and a shrug, moves over to sit on the couch and motions for her to join him. 

They end up talking for almost two hours, getting carried away as they tend to do when gossiping about their friends. When Konami does leave, Yuuichi is left feeling both unsettled and comforted; it seems to be a power that runs in the bloodline, since that’s how he’s been feeling around Arashiyama lately as well. 

Speaking of Arashiyama—Yuuichi had somehow, in the course of the two hours, been roped into promising that he’d watch Arashiyama’s film. No longer a request that he could take or ignore, Konami had to go the extra mile and make sure it happened.

He’s still hesitant, even as he searches for a stream link on his laptop. The movie is the reason Arashiyama had left, it’s the reason for the three years of silence, and a part of Yuuichi has always known that watching it would mean confronting those three years. He’s never been particularly keen on that.

Still, Konami has a point. Konami has never not had a point. For all her tendencies to act like a child, she’s chillingly perceptive. 

With a groan, because he hates to admit defeat, Yuuichi opens up a streaming link that looks reasonably safe and presses play.

The movie,  _ Good Grief _ , is a quiet, unassuming one, which is fairly contrary to Arashiyama’s charm. Yuuichi had never paid much attention to the film and television talk that Arashiyama would occasionally drop, but he feels safe in calling it character driven.

The plot is simple enough: a detective returns to his hometown five years after his one true love had disappeared, determined to solve the case this time around. Arashiyama, as the detective and star of the show, carries himself beautifully. It’s not his usual typecast but it’s easy to see why he had been awarded the role, and as Yuuichi watches him on screen he can feel himself crumbling to the pain that has always been there and that he’s never known what to do with.

This time, he lets himself feel it, and by the end of the film he may or may not be crying. Nobody will know, anyway.

Arashiyama’s performance had been amazing. Yuuichi had made it a point to watch everything that Arashiyama was in, regardless of how big or small the part, so he can safely say that this role had been his best one yet.

As well as being spectacular, the acting performance gives Yuuichi much to think about. It’s a gentle kind of nudge at the back of his mind, something to explore if only he stretched a little further and reached for it. While he had never made the effort, never extended his grip and risked his balance before, he thinks he wants to now.

Out of curiosity, he starts with searching up reviews of the film. While there aren’t many unexpected opinions on the quality of the film itself; it’s a decent to above average film, but nothing truly spectacular, Yuuichi’s isn’t interested in overall opinions.

_ Good Grief, an average film in all other aspects, is elevated to greatness by one unexpected element. Arashiyama Jun, a practical newcomer onto the film scene, adds a depth and poignancy to this film that is breathtaking. I could scarcely believe that an almost no-name was cast in a film by such a prominent director, but now that I’ve seen him in action I can confirm it was the right choice. Every scene he’s in is played with such melancholy and loss that I felt myself getting sad even looking at him. _

Yuuichi thinks he knows what he’s looking for. He scrolls through a forum on the film, his gaze catching at wherever Arashiyama’s name is mentioned.

**THE WORKS OF SASAKI MINA**   
_ a place to discuss all about the directorial filmography of our rising star sasaki mina! _

**anonymous [SUBJECT: good grief general discussion]**   
_ honestly, i found it a little disappointing. i expected better from sasaki, but it was still a good watch ig _

**SAKIIIII [SUBJECT: good grief general discussion]**   
_ ahhhh i know what you mean! i was really shocked by the lead actor though, i never expected him to be so good _

**bruh bruh bruh [SUBJECT: good grief general discussion]** **  
** _ IKR! he was seriously so good. his emotions felt so sincere and overwhelming. i felt so sad for the mc and it defs wasn’t bc of the meh storyline. It was bc of him. _

**reigning film buff CHALLENGE ME IF [...] [SUBJECT: good grief general discussion]**   
_ I agree! Jun is an amazing actor. I hope that he gets more roles after this, he carried Good Grief. That scene where he was visiting the grave was so touching, he really looked like he was mourning the loss of somebody truly amazing. _

**SAKIIIII [SUBJECT: good grief general discussion]**   
_ oh the grave scene was really amazing! he totally outshined his co-actor (forgive me for saying so shuuya but you were definitely outacted), i wonder what he was thinking of to make him so sad haha _

**shimizu [SUBJECT: good grief general discussion** **  
** _ true true… i know that thats what acting is and its his job, but i really wonder how he made himself look so miserable! arashiyama jun, are you okay? youve got a bunch of new fans from this film so were here to listen and support you now!!!!!!! cheer up jun!!!!!!!!!!!!!! _

**anonymous [SUBJECT: good grief general discussion]** **  
** _ do you really think he’ll be reading this lol _

Reading the discussion about Arashiyama’s acting, Yuuichi realizes it. A niggling suspicion in the back of his mind, or maybe a theory that he didn’t want to acknowledge for fear of it being true. He doesn’t want to acknowledge it even now, even though he  _ knows _ Arashiyama and he knows how likely it is.

It’s not a pleasant thought, or a neat one. It’s a messy, dangerous path, and Yuuichi doesn’t know if he wants to take it or not. He’s done so well living in his careful, categorical life so far: how is it fair for Arashiyama to come back and unearth everything he’s trying to do?

Except Yuuichi doesn’t think the blame can be laid at Arashiyama’s feet, or at anybody’s feet. It’s just how things are turning out, and he thinks it might be a little bit inevitable.

Knowing that, he has to turn and face the music, and find some confirmation to the answers he has.

He texts Konami.

**[17:34] me** **  
** do you think arashiyama was happy in australia

**[17:35] konami** **  
** do you think this is something you should be asking me?

**[17:35] me** ****  
wow   
tough crowd i see

**[17:35] konami** ****  
u have to do this by yourself!   
go forth!!   
come on!!!   
you know what u have to do!!!!

**[17:36] me** ****  
… yeah   
always have to be right don’t you   
do you know where he is

**[17:36] konami** ****  
hes walking along the riverbank   
if u break his heart ill kill u   
if he breaks ur heart ill kill him

With Konami’s blessing, Yuuichi grabs a jacket and leaves. His heart, which hasn’t been present in his chest for the past three years, beats listlessly.

＝＝＝

Arashiyama is fairly easy to find. It’s not the first time he’s taken to the riverbank to think, and it means that Yuuichi has prior experience in seeking him out among the crowds and bushes and quiet.

It’s strange that he has to remember this, but he has plenty of prior experience, in all things related to Arashiyama. It makes him wonder why it took him so long to figure this one out.

Well, the whole living in denial thing may have been an issue, and he has nobody but himself to blame for that one.

When Arashiyama’s familiar figure comes into view, Yuuichi can see that he’s staring out across the water. His attention trained away, it’s easy for Yuuichi to see the sadness on his face: sadness reminiscent of how he looked in the film, and how he’s been looking this entire time since he returned.

A tired, weary kind of sadness, and Yuuichi can’t believe he never recognized it before.

“Hey,” he calls out.

Arashiyama turns towards the sound, and upon catching sight of Yuuichi, freezes for a second. For a second, he looks unsure and vulnerable and so very sad, before he’s rebuilding his walls and resetting them.

He says “Hey?”, a little confused at Yuuichi’s sudden appearance.

Yuuichi steps forward and, seeing Arashiyama basked in the light of the slowly setting sun, feels his confidence waver.

Then he meets Arashiyama’s eyes. He sees in them the same seeking, the same wondering, that he is feeling. They’ve both been reaching, then, in the darkness. It’s kind of ridiculous that it’s taken them this long to come here.

“Can we talk?” He asks. The emotions pour off of Arashiyama easily, caution, confusion, a tiny vague hope, and then he’s nodding.

“Arashiyama,” Yuuichi says, then corrects himself with “Jun,” right afterwards. Arashiyama looks breathless, starstruck, terrified, so Yuuichi powers on and asks “Were you happy in Australia?”

There is a moment, where Yuuichi watches the indecision flick across Arashiyama’s face. Where he watches and waits and hopes as Arashiyama weighs up the benefits of lying or of being truthful, and the worst thing is that no matter what he chooses, Yuuichi will probably believe him.

Then, finally: “No,” Arashiyama says, all sad smiles, “I wasn’t.”

It's the truth.

“You should’ve been,” Yuuichi tells him, because Arashiyama should always, always be happy.

“How could I have been, without you?” Arashiyama asks. His voice his low, his eyes averted, his hands shaking.

Yuuichi is shaking too, he realizes. “You were following your dreams,” he says gently. “You were making it,”

Then, Arashiyama lets out a laugh that sounds a lot more like a sob, and there’s a hand coming up to cover his mouth as he chokes out “Yuuichi, I didn’t go to Australia to follow my dreams,”. He says  _ follow my dreams _ like it’s the most absurd, most hilarious concept he’s ever heard. 

He sighs, shaking his head. “When we were—before the breakup, I got offered a role.”

Yuuichi nods. He thinks he remembers this.

“It  was for a really big series, leading role and everything. It was my big break. But I… ah, I refused it. The director wanted me to pretend to date the female lead for a while to generate interest and I—I couldn’t do it.” He laughs, self-deprecating. “My manager was so furious with me, but I wouldn’t budge. I couldn’t bring myself to do it, not… not with you there.” 

When they had been dating, the relationship had to be kept under wraps because of Arashiyama’s career. Only their closest friends knew; even Arashiyama’s manager hadn’t known the full story. Yuuichi feels the puzzle pieces coming together, three years late.

“Then everything sort of fell apart, and we—… We broke up, and a few days later the offer for the film in Australia came in and I. Didn’t think. I just took it.” 

Then Arashiyama looks Yuuichi right in the eyes, his gaze hard despite the tears glimmering in it. His face pulls into a wretched, miserable smile, the likes of which should never, ever be on the face of somebody as wonderful as Arashiyama Jun, and he says “I ran away, Yuuichi.”

Arashiyama Jun hadn’t been happy in Australia. Arashiyama Jun hadn’t been fulfilling his lifelong dream. Arashiyama Jun had been running away.

Yuuichi realizes that Arashiyama Jun might have been as miserable and torn up over their breakup as Yuuichi had been.

“Oh,” Yuuichi says, because he has nothing else to say.

“Everybody else knew, you know. Konami wouldn’t talk to me for months because she was so angry, but you never pieced it together.” Arashiyama takes a deep, shaky breath. He sounds so painfully fond. “You really loved me,” he says.

Yuuichi nods. He’s never known a truth like the way he loves Arashiyama. “I thought you put the stars in the sky,” he says, a little teasing, a little raw. 

Arashiyama closes his eyes and smiles, something unrefined and tremulous. Yuuichi can see Arashiyama’s tears begin to fall and the force of how much he wants to wipe them away almost knocks him over.

Arashiyama reaches up a hand and scrubs away the tears with meticulous, determined energy. He says: “I think that was some of the problem. You loved me so much and eventually I began to feel like—like I had to live up to that love. I had to be perfect in the relationship. I fell right back into my old mindset and you loved me so, so much that I was scared I would never be good enough for that.”

Yuuichi mulls over that for a while. Then he says “That’s why you didn’t tell me,”, filling in the blanks.

Arashiyama nods. “That’s why I didn’t tell you.” He repeats. “I’m just me, Yuuichi.”

And he says  _ just me _ like it’s something small, like it’s something insignificant, as if Arashiyama isn’t everything to Yuuichi.

Something catches in Yuuichi’s throat, then: a confession trying to break free that Yuuichi is tired of fighting against.

He says “I didn’t tell you about the rescue paramedic stuff because I didn’t want to upset you. All I ever want is for you to be happy, Jun, and I thought that if I could figure it out on my own, it’d all work out in the end. I—I thought—I felt weak, for not being able to handle it by myself.”

He feels lighter than he has for three, long years when he says that. Arashiyama is looking at him now and there is a nebulous, fragile shine in his eyes as he blinks away tears.

“We’re having this talk three years too late, huh?” Arashiyama says. “We really fucked it up,” he continues quietly.

Yuuichi laughs; it’s a barely there huff of air, but the smile on his face is genuine, genuine, genuine. “Yeah,” he replies, “We should’ve known better.”

Arashiyama smiles now too and the sight makes Yuuichi tear up; his weak, hopeful heart sings in his chest. 

“I’m sorry for running,” Arashiyama murmurs. 

Yuuichi steps forward.

“I’m sorry for pulling away,” he murmurs back.

“I’m sorry for not talking to you, I should’ve known better,” Arashiyama continues, and then he steps forward too.

“It’s not like I knew better either, so I’m sorry as well,” Yuuichi replies.

Arashiyama’s face scrunches up, just briefly, before he’s saying “Can you stop trying to one-up me in apologizing?”

The laugh that Yuuichi gives catches him off guard and he is nothing but candid, honest happiness. Arashiyama looks at Yuuichi with a wonder so encompassing that Yuuichi almost shies away, but they’re so close, now. Only one step between them. Either of them could close the distance, but they’re both waiting.

“Hey, Jun,” Yuuichi says. “I missed you,”

Behind the pain and waiting, Arashiyama grins at Yuuichi. It feels like Yuuichi is seeing it for the first time again.

“Hey, Yuuichi. I missed you too,” Arashiyama responds. Then he holds his breath for a beat before asking, in a smooth rush, “Are we okay?”

He looks so unsure and Yuuichi immediately hates it, so he says “We’re better than okay,”

Then they’re both grinning at each other, and Arashiyama is reaching out a hand, and Yuuichi is taking it.

“Jin Yuuichi,” Arashiyama says, with the weight of a love confession, “I just lived the three most miserable years of my life without you. So… can we start over?”

“Arashiyama Jun,” Yuuichi replies, “I bet you that my three years were more miserable than yours.” Arashiyama rolls his eyes and laughs. Grinning so hard he feels like his face might split, Yuuichi continues with “Please, let’s start over.”

**Author's Note:**

> serena if you're reading this i love you.
> 
> if you liked this fic, please consider donating to my ko-fi! it's linked in [my carrd](http://arashiyama.carrd.co) \- thank you so much if you do!


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